Those Trivial Recollections
by Zandyne
Summary: He gave them paper to write down their thoughts and false emotions, but some things are better left unsaid. [Organization XIII]
1. The Man Who Gave Them Paper Memories

Those Trivial Recollections

Prologue: The Man Who Gave Them Paper Memories

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In the vast abyss that separated the worlds, there was a haven of sorts for those who belonged to neither the dark nor the light. Those who belonged to neither were known as the Non-Existent Ones. Their solace was found in a place that was lovingly called 'The World That Never Was'. But for a world that was supposed to have never existed, it certainly looked well-lived in, even when the thirteen of them had just arrived.

Maybe there were others who came before them, maybe whatever higher power that ordained all existence had reserved a special place for them. How ironic in a poetic sense. Regardless, they came to call this place home. Every inch of that metal world of insignias and spires of ivory steel, it belonged to them.

One of the rooms that were a part of the metal citadel functioned as a living room in a way. There were couches, single chairs, tables, a large bookshelf on the wall and a balcony that opened up to the outside of the structure, one that had a perfect view of the sky. The room was the same uniform white, dark purple and black metal design as the rest of the grand residence. The room was relatively quiet save for the chatter amongst the members in the room.

The abrupt sound of a throat being cleared caught their collective attention. "Hey, guys, an announcement." The voice spoke in an overly apathetic tone.

The lounging members looked up to see Xigbar's bored expression. Demyx was staring up from his paper and its various scribbles, pencil halted midway at a music note. Axel had stopped playing Hangman with Roxas, at which point Roxas had just made Axel's stickman die, even though the word was correct. Larxene gave a scoff and a flip of her hair before resuming her 'casual death glare'. Marluxia and Luxord had ceased their idle chatter about slot machines. Lexaeus and Xaldin kept staring, though instead of at the walls or the ceiling, it was in Xigbar's direction. Zexion had been reading a book, but his eye was no longer concentrated on the text. Vexen had quietly folded his own book closed, but held a hint of mild irritation on his face for the disruption. Saix continued looking though the telescope that faced the sky, but he was listening.

"Xemnas wants a meeting with all of us," he made random gestures in the air idly as though he was trying to fan away how uninterested he sounded. As though suddenly satisfied with the action of waving around his hand, his usual smirk returned to his face. "Well come on guys, chop chop." He gave a short laugh as he turned and began walking to their designated 'It's Time for Some Serious Stuff' meeting room.

The before mentioned members groaned inwardly as they abandoned whatever they were doing previously to attend their leader's meeting. Demyx got off of his metal chair with an audible sigh; he folded his unfinished sheet and shoved it into his pocket. After ruffling his hair, his face suddenly brightening up as he made his springy steps to the room. Roxas soon followed after, as well as a chuckling Axel. Roxas' 'gory' stick additions to Axel's dead stickman amused him. Larxene got off her chair, giving another scoff while straightening out her cloak and then making her way down the hall. Marluxia and Luxord proceeded as well, both were walking absentmindedly; they were more absorbed on the subject of 'unusual maiming deaths' and their own commentary of it. Lexaeus and Xaldin soon departed, both making quick and silent steps despite their bulky appearances. Vexen creaked off his chair, toting his book with him; he held his hand on his chin, deep in thought.

Zexion set down his book and started to head towards the door as well, but felt as though something was being forgotten; he looked over his shoulder to see that Saix was still sky-gazing. He took it upon himself to remind Saix about the meeting. As he approached the taller man, Saix suddenly turned around. The boy flinched slightly to the sudden movement. "We have somewhere to be." It sounded so...detached. Zexion blinked at this, he wasn't exactly sure how to respond, so he just stood there, speechless. Saix looked briefly at the boy's face then towards the hall, he brushed past him as he walked towards it. The smaller member followed after him moments later.

Inside the meeting room was an oval, blue-grey steel table lined up with thirteen similarly colored chairs; six on both sides and one chair at the center at the very end of the table. Aside from this table and the thirteen chairs, the room was empty and relatively devoid of any design or decorations on the walls. The members never really sat in any particular order around the table, but Xemnas always seated himself at the farthest center end.

Xemnas was a chatty person, and his intelligence was well-respected. A man of his caliber should have learned the fine art of 'getting to the damn point' at some time. He also did not possess the skill of perceiving certain non-verbal cues such as 'We're BORED' and all its variations. Either that or he really loved the sound of his own voice, or so the wittier members had often joked about.

The members in turn had created ways to ease their boredom during such instances. Lexaeus had perfected the art of 'zoning out while looking attentive' in the short time he had been part of the group and its meetings. Xigbar and Xaldin played table-top football, taking turns 'kicking' the paperclip 'football'. Axel and Roxas played 20 Questions or I Spy by lip-reading or using various hand signals and gestures. Marluxia and Luxord often played some sort of game that entailed cards under the table. Larxene would usually occupy herself with her nails even though they all wore gloves, fixing her hair or thinking evil thoughts; occasionally looking up and making a spiteful comment. Demyx would sit with his chin in the palm of his hand while the other would play an imaginary instrument on the table. Vexen usually snuck a book into the room and he would read it under the table. Zexion and Saix were the only members not actively distracting themselves, their undivided attention always seemed completely focused on Xemnas.

At least that was how it appeared.

Xemnas took a deep breath, "-And now to the main subject of my concern." He raised a gloved hand and gave a quick flick of his wrist. A book materialized in front of each of the members (everyone save for Zexion and Saix all immediately assumed the innocent look of feigned attention). The books were hard-covered and black, bold white roman numerals were engraved on each of their covers and on their sides was a clip to keep them closed. On the back of each book was the same symbol that was found all over the interiors and exteriors of their home, the emblem of a Non-Existent One. Despite being such a simplistic gift, it was shocking to receive something from Xemnas.

Each member looked over the books in front of them, all curious as to what they were supposed to do with it. Xemnas held up his own book, it had the numeral I on its front, "You will all be keeping personal logs from this day forward. Write down all you can while you are all still in this...state." A slight smile started to form on his normally passive face, "After all, you might want to someday reflect on your days before we take what is rightfully ours... Other than that, you are all dismissed." Returning to his previously unexpressive composure, Xemnas retook his seat.

None of the other members made a move to get out of their chairs. Some of the younger members stared at Xemnas with apparent confusion; the older ones looked at their own books questionably. Xemnas grinned again as he folded his hands in front of himself, "Think of them as your trivial recollections before Kingdom Hearts is ours."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not very good at writing!! I'm not that creative either when it comes to...certain things. Uh, I'm going to try and keep them as much in 'character' as my puny mind will allow, this will also be a good time to mention that this can be considered somewhat AU (depending on details relating to the Organization with KH2's Final Mix and KH:RE-CoM, and how much I am willing to change the 'story' for them). Regardless it takes place sometime near the end of KH1, and BEFORE KH:CoM and KH2. I have no clue where this shall go so, or how I want to write this. I wanted to make it full-blown humor, but it turned 'contemplative' on me at the last second. That doesn't mean I won't try to lighten it up a bit occasionally.

For future chapters: don't be surprised if something weird pops up here or there. There is most likely a reason. Also, here will be no 'pairings' whatsoever. NONE of the entries will have ANY romantic intentions/implications purposely written. But feel free to interpret or comment on the 'character ties' however you see fit.


	2. His Silent Mask of Darkness VI&VII

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter One: His Silent Mask of Darkness  
(Zexion and Saix Entries)

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His Darkness and His Denial (Zexion's POV)

_**Daily Log - 1st Entry - Clear Skies**_

_Xemnas has given all of us these odd books to write down our 'thoughts', or at least that's what he says. Up until a few moments ago, I didn't exactly realize the importance of scribbling the blather of my mind out onto these sheets. But now I know why. Xemnas is indeed the genius we all decided to follow...though I do regret not bringing reading material for the most recent of his lecture-like meetings. But I digress._

_Soon after receiving this journal I have been met with a dilemma of sorts. In theory us Non-Existent Ones have no emotions, we can mimic emotions that we 'recall'. However, I would now like to revise that theory (though it will be extremely difficult to prove, best if I ask Vexen and Xemnas for their opinions); we can 'behave' with these emotions, but we cannot grasp those emotions long enough to really call them our own (emotions such as anger could be called a reactive stimuli in this sense)...the reason why I say this is...because of a certain other...member of our little group. I experience a sensation similar to sickness or nausea, but I know for a fact Non-Existent Ones cannot contract such things. All other scientific factors that could give such a feeling have also been ruled out. My own thoughts say that it can be called an 'infatuation' of sorts, but given the connotation, the situation is nothing even RELATED to something like that; I will sort it out later- Once again I have gone off track._

_Returning to my earlier thought; with this journal I have been forced to realize something I didn't notice earlier, that out of the twelve individuals I have been living with, I have taken no time to truly know them 'better' or to have really become 'acquainted' with them (aside from certain outstanding traits, such as how Vexen is studious, Axel is laid-back, Lexaeus is serious, etc. etc.). Given this perspective, I have been depriving myself of human interaction, and although that may seem unwanted to individuals such as myself, these people are all my intellectual equals or superiors, give or take a member or three...but for the most part I can associate with them..._

_I have decided to become 'acquainted' first with Saix, he seems to be a quiet and relatively level-headed person such as myself. He is also very curious in my opinion, his actions are strange and somewhat enigmatic, but I have discovered a possible cause for such behavior. (He has also helped me realize what piece of the sky puzzle was missing, interesting how I didn't notice it earlier.) Apparently, here in The World That Never Was, there is no moon. Yes, that's right, this world has no other worlds that orbit it, or ones that are even within the immediate area. Another odd trait is how there is no sun here, but that is of lesser importance, even though something as obvious as the sun is needed for energy, this world has managed to survive well enough without it; therefore I will refrain from questioning the logic of it. Though I do suspect that it has something to do with the sun being affiliated with the LIGHT part of the world alignments. (So it shouldn't be associated with the Darkness or Non-Existent world anyway.) So given that mindset, we should still have a moon or something similar as a source of 'power'. I suppose I should have a talk with Xemnas about it later, he seems to have the most knowledge about this world._

_Back to the topic at hand, Saix up until recently has seemed to have been an emotionless, if not overly depressed individual. However when the topic of the moon is discussed, he is immediately filled with emotion! It's fascinating to see a Non-Existent One with emotions that can turn 'on' or 'off' depending on the topic! Judging by that last show of emotion, I have come to believe he is most likely trying to hide something. What it is I don't know, but he will be an interesting puzzle to solve! Saix will make for an entertaining companion regardless of the circumstances._

_...Still. It bothers me how 'heartbroken' Saix seems to feel over something as inanimate and distant as the moon. Yet, somehow, after hearing him speak of it like that, I look up at the sky and feel almost at a loss for not being able to see the moon and its lunar brilliance in this world of eternal night...You truly intrigue me, Saix._

_-Zexion-_

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The Portrait in its Entirety

_**'I want you all to return to your rooms, write something, anything that comes to mind...'**_

They had all been sent back to their respective rooms. Zexion walked slowly through the pristine hallways that led to his own room. He examined the book that was in his hands. The numeral VI shown softly in the castle's light. He lightly rubbed a gloved hand over the smooth cover and spine of the black book. He had seen and read several books before, but for some reason, this one book, it seemed so special. Perhaps because it belonged to him and him alone, or perhaps it would become a book HE wrote, but really...

The blue haired boy stopped with a gentle click of his boots. He stood in front of his room momentarily before opening the door. The inside of his room was dark; but that had never bothered him before, he actually found the lack of light quite familiar and comforting. He slipped inside, carefully closing the door after him.

He took a seat on his bed, staring at the book he was still holding. Even though it was dark, he somehow retained all of his vision. He lifted up the tab on the side of the book and opened it to the first page. Blank pages looked back at him. This wasn't surprising. Xemnas _did _give it to them so that they would write down their thoughts. But quite frankly, he didn't really feel like writing down anything at the moment. He closed the book and set it down on the nearby table with puzzles and other books littered over it.

He took a step away from the table and sat back onto his bed. For some reason he felt more bored than usual, with an irritated 'tch', he got off the bed once more and picked up the black book from his desk. He headed towards the closed balcony of his room in an attempt to ease his lack of enthusiasm for everything. Maybe he could write something sappy about the weather.

Cracking open the balcony doors with slight difficulty, he didn't go outside very often, Zexion found himself staring up at the world's sky. It was filled with sparse but bright stars, the weather could have even been considered _lovely_, but it felt as though something important was missing. He frowned at himself, he seemed to have been having more of those thoughts lately. Exasperated, he slapped the book down onto the balcony's surface and repositioned himself so that his chin rested on his arms while they were folded on top of the balcony's edge. Maybe he could just mull over something-

A clanking sound jolted the boy out of his thoughts; he craned his head in the direction of where it was coming from to see that Saix was on his own balcony. The boy stared at the man's back whether he realized he was doing it or not. The taller man was setting up his own telescope to gaze at the sky. Again. Zexion began to wonder why Saix was so obsessed with looking at the sky.

Zexion kept watching the other member; Saix had finished re-constructing his telescope and had taken some glances at the sky through the viewer. He was now scribbling what seemed to have been a page or two to in his own book (or at least that's what it looked like). At which point he suddenly stopped, and looked up. Yellow eyes met a light blue one. Saix tilted his head inquisitively to the side. "Enjoying the sky as well Zexion?" He would have sounded friendly if it wasn't so deadpan.

The question finally registered into Zexion's mind, he recollected his thoughts and internally admonished himself for being careless. After a few seconds that seemed to stretch to an eternity, he was able to string together a coherent sentence. "I suppose; have you found what you were looking for Saix?" Zexion was curious as to why he said that himself, but then again, with the way Saix was always looking at the sky, one would think he had lost something up in the heavenly bodies. Or maybe he just assumed that the scarred man was always looking for a specific star.

To the younger blue haired one's astonishment, Saix's eyes widened. Surprise. The man blinked as if trying to recover himself, grasping his black book tighter as he did so. "No. Much to my...dismay, the moon has yet to have been found." The boy was taken back by the tinge of sadness in Saix's voice at the beginning of his sentence. Zexion felt a semblance of pity for the taller man. "Ah, I see... -I'm sure you'll find it."

There was a moment of silence between the two.

From his original perch on the edge, Zexion stood up, cracked open his own book and began to write...

As Zexion wrote, he would pause between words and having written for several minutes, he gave the sky a quick glance before writing down one last sentence. With a final scribble he shut the black book and set it back on top of the balcony's edge, he turned to look back at the other blue haired member. Saix had already gone back to peering through his telescope again. His own book laying on the stool next to him.

The boy decided it would be best if he went back inside. The door back into his room closed for the last time that night. Saix stood still, staring through the telescope, but he saw nothing except the same stars he saw every night.

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His Mask and His Obsession (Saix's POV)

_**Event Journal - 1st Recorded Cycle - Phase Unknown (no Moon)**_

_Our superior has endowed us with journals in which we will chronicle our 'Non-Existent One' experiences. The man is mad for thinking any notable benefits can possibly come out of such a trivial thing. But I will comply as he is our superior..._

_I think I shall review how the day went, starting with earliest event of course. As usual I have been scouring the skies for any sign of you. Oh how I miss you my pale beauty, without you I feel uneasy. I suppose I would have fallen into despair, but I haven't, so my physical being shall remain intact for the most part. Ah yes, that brings me to another event that should be mentioned in my entry, that Xemnas had to interrupt my search in order to get this, my ridiculous journal. As said previously, I see no need to express what I 'feel' on paper, my actions are sufficient; but I shall preserve my loyalties and respect for such a request._

_Hmm, this brings me to the next event of interest, although minor in comparison to my search for you, is that pipsqueak boy, Zexion. Today he seems to be running into me more often then usual. However I noticed something...odd about the boy, something I should have paid more attention to. He's so pale, so pale he almost reminds me of you. But alas, he is imperfect...still. His hair color reminds me of the early morning when I could still see you in all your glory. Even though I find his hairstyle odd, it rather suits him, but why hide such pleasantly dusk blue eyes? Maybe the boy doesn't understand the magnificence that is the Pale World._

_...The boy is staring at me again. He always has this, bizarre look to him, his eyes are greedy, but for what I do not know, so it makes no sense. I would almost describe how he looks as that of a starving animal, but I sincerely doubt he is hungry for food. Perhaps he's staring at my scar. In that case I should direct him to a mirror so that he can bask in his own eccentric appearance...or perhaps give him a scar of his own if he's envious of such a thing..._

_He looks so much like a child. Perhaps that is what disturbs me most; he looks so fragile, he would be easily crushed if I was ever angered. That is probably what makes you more attractive than him. You were too far away from my hellish rage to suffer it, yet you are able to still grant me my strength. You are much stronger than the boy in that sense. I wish to find you once again my dearest, if I cannot find you in time, my will may cave into something more twisted then even I wish to express._

_...Perhaps the reason I cannot find you here is because you have manifested yourself into that boy? A ridiculous notion. But I'm beginning to find my own eyes staring at the boy. Staring at him as he writes in his own confounded black book, yes even his movements are graceful as he writes his thoughts (maybe I can somewhat forgive Xemnas for this moment). But...this reaction is most likely due to my lack of contact with you. Maybe it's because of his earnest support in understanding my goal. He's probably the only one who does, and maybe Xemnas or Vexen, but I don't have as much faith in them. Perhaps he and I are more alike then I thought in that sense. It would explain the way he stares._

_...I am thankful for the control I over my emotions for the most part (I will admit that sometimes that control slips up, but I think I was able to cover it up for the most part), if I were to as openly express them as the boy does, I would surely not be here. And you would have abandoned me long ago. If only he knew who he was dealing with, would he still have an expression like that? Regardless, subtlety has its advantages when one is trying to sneak glances at something one desires..._

_My apologies Zexion, you are too much within my grasp. You mustn't be surprised when my claws crush your pale skeleton by accident._

_I'm sure you'll understand if I ever tell you._

_...I should resume my search._

_-Saix-_

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well 1 chapter done! I was originally only going to do only one POV, but then it died when I realized how short the chapter was. So how am I doing character wise? Does Zexion seem unreasonably dumb for some reason? Does Saix seem like he's overly crazy? Anyway, I'll be working on the next chapter.


	3. That Dedicated Melody IV&IX

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Two: That Dedicated Melody  
(Demyx and Vexen Entries)

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The Sound of His Kindness (Demyx's POV)

_**Recorded Lyrics - 1st Stanza - Composing: Curious Aria**_

_something-!_

_I wrote that earlier to get the 'something' outta the way, so that I'd have an excuse to head down to the labs. I like going down there even though I'm not really good at that scientific stuff. The real reason why would be because the chemicals and bottles in there actually have color; and I need a break from the angsty bleak-white and depression-grey of the castle once in the while...and no, the others' hair colors don't count as colors. Some of 'em are actually pretty creepy to hang around anyway. Like that Saix dude, intense blue color, but DAMN, I wouldn't want to be alone in a room with him. Lexaeus has an interesting orange-y red color, but he doesn't like it when I do...ANYTHING. Guy needs to loosen up. Marluxia has a pinkish color thing, it's kinda...unlike him, but eh. He talks and laughs about death way too much for my liking...those poor people. Axel is a pretty normal guy, I can relate to him I guess. But our tastes are a little too different and he's on a mission to cheer up that new blond kid, Roxas (he needs it too in my opinion)._

_The only girl in our group would be Larxene (she's blonde too), she's kinda a witch though, always calling me a wuss (not that it's...entirely false, but it's uncalled for!) and always trying to prank me into hurting myself, like making me fall down the stairs. Then she has that evil cackle of hers...gives me creeps. Next on the blond list would be Luxord, he's more of a platinum blond in my opinion and he's a decent guy to hang around, but he's too 'gentlemanly' for my tastes, and he always wants to do something that involves betting or lots of numbers (I'm not good at numbers and my luck is terrible). Last on the list of blonds (I never realized we had so many until I listed them out) would be Vexen, he has a sickly blond color? He's an old guy and he loves his science. Kinda got to know him from the fact he's ALWAYS in the lab doing something; it's fun to hang around since he's such a prude._

_Let's see who else...there's Xaldin and Xigbar, both have black hair (though Xigbar's has grey and white streaks in it, and Xaldin's is just jet black); actually, I rarely see them, so I don't have a solid opinon of them. But I swear Xigbar laid a trap for someone once, and I got caught by it...castle...wall...my face...pain...not going to miss being around him anytime soon. I guess Xaldin could be a black-haired and dred-locked version of Lexaeus. Then there's Zexion (he's got the lightest grey-blue hair in the world), he's always reading a book or fiddling around with a puzzle; kinda think he likes being a 'loner' at this time. But what do I know?_

_Lastly there's Xemnas (he has creepy white-grey hair)...I wonder what he has in store for us with these books. He's pretty scary for a leader, so its even scarier when he acts NICE. I wonder how he did that trick with the books appearing too. Seems pretty nifty to be able to do that just with a flick of a wrist...maybe I should ask him about it when I feel more up to it. -I'm off to the labs then; maybe I'll have something more to write after some inspiration._

_...well I ticked off Vexen again. I should probably make a note to not do that anymore; surprise him I mean..._

_NOTE TO SELF: DEMYX. STOP SCARING THE CRAP OUTTA THE OLD MAN._

_It's become almost a routine now. "Demyx goes to the lab. Demyx sees Vexen working with a (insert unnatural variation of a color) vial. Demyx does -insert action that disrupts or breaks a.) Vexen's concentration b.) Vexen's vial-. Demyx apologizes for previous action. Vexen yells at Demyx for said action. Demyx broods in corner for two seconds. Demyx is back to his old self. Demyx hovers around Vexen. Demyx sometimes helps Vexen with handing him something. End day, repeat the next."_

_Given that it happens practically every day, I'm surprised Vexen hasn't...destroyed me or something. Judging from the way the last 'experiment' ate through the metal floor, I'm sure the results would do the same if he chucked it at me. I wonder why he dropped it anyway. Is my handwriting really that ugly?? I didn't write anything offensive in here did I? Anyways, I think for today I'll try something different and see what happens. I should probably finish that sheet I was working on earlier..._

_...I swear I can hear someone else humming as I write out this song. Or is it just my imagination?_

_-Demyx-_

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The Complete Music Sheet

Before Demyx knew it, he was back out of his room and his feet were carrying him down to the labs again (he went down there often, specifically when he was bored or feeling 'uninspired'). He was taking joyful strides as he traveled down the halls, whistling a random tune and bobbing his head side to side as he did so. He technically wasn't disobeying any orders from Xemnas by leaving his room. He did write down something in his book. Therefore, by Demyx logic, he was still following the rules perfectly! But just to be on the safe side, he still had his book with him.

Personally, he rather liked the book, but he thought it was missing an artistic flair to it, so he had taken the liberty of doodling some music notes in it as well. The second he got his hands on some paint though, he was going to color the freaking thing.

He continued along his merry, tune-whistling way until he reached the lab door. Now the lab door was a little different from the other doors in the citadel. It was say, twice as tall, twice as wide and easily twice as heavy to pry open. Maybe that's why the others didn't go down to it often...

With a few grunts and scrapes of the door being peeled open, he poked his blond head in and looked around. The various bottles, vials, cases and strange chemicals usually down in the expansive room were in their usual spaces. Oh, and there was Vexen, who, as usual was inspecting something. Today was a tube of glowing and pulsating neon-green liquid. Putting on his usual air of cheerfulness, he quietly made his way towards the table Vexen was working at. Taking a place behind the distracted Vexen, Demyx leaned forward over the other's shoulder a little, and with a more than pronounced voice of a whisper, "SO. What exactly is that?"

Vexen nearly dropped the vial, cursing under his breath as he tried to regain his composure. He responded with a more than apparent scowl in his voice, "Something that is VERY VOLATILE and requires my absolute CONCENTRATION to handle." He practically spat the words at the blond boy. Demyx gave him an even bigger grin. "So what are you doing in the lab? Aren't we all supposed to be in our rooms until we write something down in our books?" The over-enthusiastic blond was practically oozing with sincere optimism. Vexen shuddered in disgust at how freakishly happy he could sound. Without shifting his gaze from the vial and still speaking in his venomous tone, "The lab is considered my 'room' anyway. Xemnas would understand. So WHAT pray tell, is YOUR excuse?"

The younger blond man put a hand on his hip and held open his own book proudly at Vexen. "See for yourself! Aren't my writing skills amazing?" On the first of its lines was a single, hastily scrawled word that said, 'something-!' as well as some random dancing stick-music notes on the margins.

If people could shatter due to the idiocy of others, Vexen would have into a million bloody pieces on his precious lab floor. Thankfully it wasn't him; rather it was his vial of radioactive liquid.

Screams of fear from Demyx and loud explicatives from Vexen echoed throughout the lab and the immediate halls; all while the liquid happily burned a pit into the floor for itself.

A broom and dustpan later, the shards and the leftover liquid had been cleaned up; only a hole in the floor remained of the incident. Demyx looked like he was on the verge of tears as he babbled apologies to the frowning and increasingly irritated Vexen. After hearing ten too many incoherent 'I'm SORRY!!!'s the scientist finally lost his last shred of patience.

"I ACCEPT I ACCEPT! GO SIT IN THE CORNER AND LEAVE ME BE IF YOU REALLY ARE- JUST BE **QUIET** YOU IMBECILE AND STAY AWAY FROM THE REST OF MY EXPERIMENTS!!" He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and began to rub his temple with his fingers. He was figuratively getting too old of this. He scribbled some notes into his open book before taking up a bottle of red liquid and a tube of purple and proceeding to recreate the destroyed project.

Demyx gave a final sniff before walking away. He dragged his feet to the corner he was going to sit in. He snapped open his book as he leaned against the wall and slid into a sitting position. While he wrote, that persistent smile of his found its way back onto his face.

He started humming a tune to himself and tapping his foot to the beat; Vexen didn't seem to mind it at all.

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The Dedication of His Hermit Mind (Vexen's POV)

_**Data Report - 1st Log - Hypothesis Stage**_

_This book has been issued by my superior, Xemnas. I will be sure to take full advantage of its pages. I suspect that he has given us them as a form of experiment. Regardless of his intentions, I shall use this book to expand the scientific field, be it with my own experiment's notes or as data for whatever experiment Xemnas is conducting._

_Despite having been commanded to return to our rooms, I have gone directly to the lab; I should convince Xemnas about converting the lab to my 'room', as I spend practically all of my hours here. But one must be formal when handling matters such as this. Formality creates order after all._

_Today's experiment is using an unknown substance that might be able to create a synthetic solution that, upon contact, converts 'regular people' into their Heartless and Non-Existent selves. However, I must refine this raw form if I expect it to have any effect; it is simply a highly corrosive and acidic chemical in its current state. I must also find suitable test subjects. I should bring the problem up to Xemnas' attention; it's absurd that he doesn't give me the proper tools to work with! How does he expect me to get results without LIVE test subjects? ...Pity that Demyx boy isn't a 'regular person' anymore; I could have just used it on him. At least then I would get a __**result**__. Hm, speak of the devil. He's trying to open the door again. I should ignore him. He is merely a distraction. Perhaps if I look busy he'll leave me alone today._

_...He's managed to do it again. My precious chemicals, wasted! Now I'll have to start from scratch! Why couldn't someone like Zexion or Lexaeus bother me? They understand how delicate a scientist's work is! They appreciate knowledge! Someone as naive as Demyx would never understand such a thing. And what was with that ridiculously blank page he showed me? Has he no concept of what Xemnas is asking of us? 'Something-!' It said! Is that what he considers __**writing**__**HAH.**__ Such faulty data!_

_He should be __**extremely **__grateful that I have an appreciation for the fine arts and music. If he didn't have such an interesting talent for music I would have poured something deliciously toxic down his throat that would mute or blind him, and possibly kill him. Then I would get some much needed quiet time._

_I think I shall keep my project data separate from my book's data from now on. My thoughts will be much more organized if they are separated into 'personal' and 'work'. This book will be solely for my personal thoughts...it would better suit the 'recollections' description anyway, though I believe they will hardly be trivial in the end._

_Well, he certainly has altered the routine; he's actually staying in one spot and letting me work! Albeit he is humming rather loudly in the corner. It's progress forward I suppose. Whatever tune it is though, it sounds so familiar...almost nostalgic, I wonder why. Why is he tapping his blasted foot now? Ah well, I'll disregard it, it supplements as a beat to whatever tune it is. It's such a waste that he doesn't have an instrument to play it on. If he did I could probably recall what song it is._

_This should be more than satisfactory concerning my personal thoughts for the day, my experiment demands more proper attention._

_-Vexen-_

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapter 2 is done! Such a random order isn't it? Demyx the musician and Vexen the bookworm, lol. Are any of the subtleties being noticed? Are they confusing? Are they still 'in character'? Is there any significant difference between their personalities as I 'write' them out?? I swear I'm trying to be as thorough as possible. Also, don't be surprised if minor details change in terms of the past chapters. I am constantly trying to clarify and/or improve my descriptions and writing style! For the 'first day' the entries will be done two members at a time (that way I can establish some sort of 'base' for all the members in the future), this is also to emphasize how briefly they have all 'known' each other (in case you were confused about why they don't really 'know' each other yet).


	4. Proper Manners and Malice X&XI

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Three: Proper Manners and Malice  
(Marluxia and Luxord Entries)

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Without Finesse, His Crude Etiquette (Marluxia's POV)

_**Epitaphs - 1st Verse - Bored to Death**_

_Well well well! This is so damn exciting. He's given us all these little DIARIES to write in! It made sense for that bug-haired chick. She's a chick. And maybe that pansy blond mullet kid. But for the rest of us? Who the hell does he think he is? Oh yeah, that's right, OUR LEADER! ALL HAIL THE ALLMIGHTY AND ALL KNOWING XEMNAS. INSTEAD OF GIVING US POWER HE GIVES US FREAKING __**BOOKS**__. I should overthrow him or something. This crap is below me, but I'll play along for the hell of it. Maybe its one of the white haired bastard's messed up jokes._

_If knowledge was really power anyway, then that feeble Vexen would be the leader or something. All Xemnas has over me is seniority and being a goddamn freak, he looks like a freaking BIRD...that got roasted by a broken oven._

_...Goddamn this is boring._

_Screw this 'go back to your rooms' crap. I'm hungry._

_Well, just came back from the kitchen. Found a chicken in there at random and decided to hack it up for the hell of it. What? Death and carnage is my hobby. Anyway, had a nice chat with Luxord who went down there as well...talk about coincidence._

_I'm off to sleep then, that guy can talk for hours on end..._

_-Marluxia-_

---------------------------------------------  
The Full Deck in Red Spades

One foot in front of the other. Back foot to the front. Repeat for ten to twelve paces. Stop on the back foot, turn on the toe and step with the front foot, repeat the first step. Repeat the entire process in a more desperate fashion from one wall to another. It pretty much summed up how the brunette was pacing in his room. He had been doing it for about an hour now.

"This is--" he stopped somewhere in the middle of his pacing. He grabbed his head and scratched at it furiously. "PISSING ME OFF!" The only 'response' was the faint echo of his outburst.

Marluxia's hands dropped to his sides, and he stared at the floor and its despicable surface. After burning a satisfactory 'hole' through it, he shifted his gaze back to the farthest corner of his room. In the corner lay the open and face-down book (with his numeral XI on its cover) that he had thrown earlier. "Heh, so it's not as cheap as that bastard. What a surprise." He walked towards the book and picked the pathetic thing up. He took a moment to give it a contemptuous glare before opening it up properly.

Feeling a bit more vicious than usual, he walked to his chair and table. He set the book flat on the table and tenderly picked up a pen before stab-writing a few choice words onto its lines.

Having written them out and feeling a bit more collected; he set down the pen and put a hand over his face. He took a deep breath, after a pause he picked up the pen once more and wrote down a few lines. Upon dotting the period he tossed the pen down, and stepped back towards his bed. He flopped onto the mattress and let out a discontented groan. Marluxia lay on the bed for a few moments and stared at the ceiling. The stupid ceiling was boring to look at.

He jumped off the bed and walked back towards the still open book and scribbled something in it. He pulled his hand back as though to survey what he had written. With a forceful pen jab he wrote yet another line before snapping closed the infernal book. Marluxia snatched up the book, tucked it under his arm, and stomped towards the door. With an impatient tug he wrenched the door open, stepped outside and slammed it.

The door was oddly ajar as Luxord approached it. The man was relatively surprised. Was there someone else here or was someone just being careless? He gingerly stepped into the kitchen. Someone was behind the counters and rummaging around for something. He looked over the tiles tentatively.

"Marluxia?"

Marluxia's shaggy head popped up from the drawers. He looked angry at first, but upon realizing who it was, calmed down. "Oh, its just you. What were the odds?" The brunette gave a short laugh before returning back to the counter's lower cabinets. The blond man decided to pull up a stool while he waited for Marluxia. He placed his book in front of him, and folded his hands on top of it (he had brought it with him 'just in case'. Should luck have it, he would like to be able to record anything interesting that happened). Luxord decided to wait for the metal clanking to cease before continuing the conversation. What in the world was the other gentleman looking for?

The younger man finally stood up from behind the counter with a satisfied smile on his face. It was at that moment that Luxord finally realized what Marluxia had been looking for; a knife. He looked to where the brunette was placing what appeared to be a dead chicken (he honestly didn't want to know where the fellow had found it) in front of him. Just as Marluxia was about to cut off the head of the ruffled bird, Luxord gave an 'ahem'. The knife stopped halfway in its downward motion, "What?" The blond kindly pulled out a cutting board (it was near the napkin block that was on the counter) and put it quickly under the fowl's corpse. "Bad for the knife's life you know." His hands returned to their folded position on the book.

Down came the knife with a dull thump. "So what are you doing down here anyway?" he pushed the severed head off the board with the side of the blade as he asked. "I was feeling rather bored, so I decided to take a chance and indulge in some good spirits." Marluxia paused and looked up from the bird, eyebrow raised skeptically at Luxord, "You mean beer right?"

"I suppose." He replied offhandedly. Luxord could have just said that from the start, but if he did, well then, he wouldn't be QUITE as eloquent of a gentleman now would he? "Well, there's nothing down here except the cooking things." Marluxia turned his attention back to the chicken. "Oh. I see..." Luxord was a bit disappointed at this, at least the trip wasn't a complete waste; he had Marluxia to talk to.

Marluxia decided to change the subject. "So what do you think of these books Luxord? Pretty pointless in my opinion." He cut off the bird's wings.

Luxord picked up the book from under his hands, "I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you on that Marluxia. They could very well be the makings of history." He waved the book in Marluxia's direction as though to emphasize his point. Off came the bird's legs. "And what makes you think that?" Blood was starting to puddle on the cutting board.

"Don't you desire for every detail of grandeur to be recorded? I know I do. I'd chance that you agree with me as well." Marluxia didn't respond. Cuts with no particular intent were beginning to appear on the bird.

Luxord looked up from his book to Marluxia. The younger man was hacking away at the bloody body. He looked as ecstatic as he did insane from the carnage. "Marluxia?" This time Marluxia set down the knife; his eyes still fixed on the mangled corpse.

Some silent moments ticked by before Luxord spoke again. "Marluxia! I wasn't bloody timing! It doesn't count!"

Marluxia blinked as the phrase sank in. He recalled what the blond was talking about. He laughed. "Right right Luxord, I got ahead of myself there! The bet is still for 'under 5 minutes' right?"

The two comrades shared a laugh and began to converse late into the night...The blood of the bird had long been dried by the time they realized _how _late it was.

Both decided it was best to return back to their rooms to avoid the possibility of punishment for being outside. The door was closed behind them. The sound of their departing footsteps growing ever fainter as they went on their way.

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Eloquence, Lady Luck's Gentleman (Luxord's POV)

_**Keeping Tabs - 1st Round - Solitaire**_

_Such a marvelous gift from Xemnas (this book obviously). I am but a simple man with simple needs, therefore such a simple gift is __wondrously __acceptable any day. Though, his most recent bidding of sending us back to our quarters was bizarre as well as sudden. Perhaps he thinks its best if we take some time to reflect and possibly make immediate use of our soon-to-be memoirs. Striking while the iron is still hot is probably what he had in mind._

_Unfortunately, I have no pertinent thoughts at the moment. Normally I would amuse myself with a deck of cards and some game that entailed their use, but I neglected to bring one back with me to my quarters. And the night is far too young to just retire for the evening. Perhaps I should indulge in some good spirits. But that involves taking a stroll down to the cookery; and it is not considered proper to disregard one's commanding superior._

_However, it is not considered proper to be relatively bored out of one's mind. I can risk such a trip since I am in dire need of entertainment. Life is too short of a game to not take risks. Fortune rewards those who are daring, so hopefully she will be on my side when I head down to the kitchen._

_Lady Luck wasn't feeling particularly charitable today; there were no good spirits to be found. It wasn't a total loss however; I had a chance to converse with my fellow gentleman, Marluxia. The man has the makings of a gentleman, as do a few other select members; he just needs to refine some of his manners and become better acquainted with a lovely maiden named 'tact'._

_I almost got to see the conclusion of one of my bets with a fellow member (Marluxia obviously), but I wasn't particularly timing, so it didn't fully count. Marluxia is a good sport though, so he has no problem redoing the bet. If only the bets with the other members had results as quick as this. I still have yet to have observed any progress with that Axel fellow's bet..._

_I have assured myself that now is a good of a time as ever to retire now, I'm sure that if there was a sun it would most likely be near dawn._

_Those punctual for themselves are punctual for others and the day after all._

_-Luxord-_

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Writing for them...was interesting and challenging. For some reason Marluxia has always stuck me as someone who loves blood and death. He also strikes me as an easily angered person who holds grudges and has a pride/ego problem. I have no idea why I call him a brunette either (considering his 'official' hair color is pink). Is there any way at all to say his hair color without saying 'pink'? Luxord on the other hand was like trying to write a proper speaking English Gentleman, but not, as it is all text and not spoken word. Both for some reason seem like guiltless individuals.

On another note, I am using a combination of the concept OrganizationXIII art and the 'New' OrganizationXIII art as references (in case you haven't noticed or were confused about my descriptions of the characters). I still don't get how Nomura (KH artist) goes from concept Marluxia (who has brown/maroon colored hair) to the finalized Marluxia (who has just has plain out PINK HAIR), but that is just my opinion.


	5. Antagonistic Rivalry II&XII

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Four: Antagonistic Rivalry  
(Xigbar and Larxene Entries)

---------------------------------------------  
Ill-Tempered Trickster (Larxene's POV)

_**Hit List - 1st List - No Vengeances Completed**_

_Well, isn't this an unexpected turn of events. Men. Why do they always seem to be the stupid ones, __**especially **__the ones left in charge? I haven't been here for a long time, but I can already tell how useless the lot of them will be. I haven't planned anything for the leader yet (Xemnas, I think that's what his name was), but only because my gut tells me that I shouldn't do anything. I'm not scared of him. I have never been scared for as long as I can remember._

_From what I can tell, the others can be nick-named as the following for my __convenience_

_Xemnas - the endlessly and monotonously talking head moron  
Xigbar - the scarred pirate, Captain Ignorant (I'll think of something that involves destroying his pride)  
Xaldin - the talking braided gorilla (the only sign of intelligence being that he can talk, also, CRAZY sideburns)  
Vexen - the old skeleton (I'll wreak havoc on that lab of his when he finally leaves it)  
Lexaeus - the talking metaphorical wall (I personally think he was a wall in his previous life)  
Zexion - the shrimpy nerd (always playing with those puzzles, that nerd)  
Saix - the telescope-o-phile (I'll steal/tamper with that telescope someday, see how he likes it)  
Axel - the exploded porcupine (I'll shave him bald or steal his hair gel or something, heheheheheh)  
Demyx - the wussy art boy (it's so satisfying to see him writhe, it's almost TOO easy)  
Luxord - the crack-pot gambler (and apparently the only one capable of facial hair, gorilla's sideburns don't count)  
Marluxia - the guy who has a pink pine tree for a head (...I'll figure out something for him)  
Roxas - the prince of midgets and quiet angst (that damn Axel is always protecting him, GOD)_

_Mark my words my little death book. Each of these idiots will be dealt with or driven insane. For now they will simply be my toys to play with._

_It's time to plot out my delicious plans...but I will not write them down here. No, I can't risk that. 'Know your enemies as you know yourself.' And knowing those nosey shallow-minded twits, they'll think its 'funny' to steal 'the chick's book'._

_Tch. Men. Why do they exist? Oh yeah, to entertain me!_

_-Larxene-_

---------------------------------------------  
A Temporary Truce

The blonde sat on her bed, pen hanging loosely from her mouth. She had been writing down...her opinions about the others. Despite the thinly scrawled handwriting, the words carried the same malice she spoke with. Satisfied with the twelve biased profiles, she set the book aside. She turned her attention to her walls. It was time to participate in her favorite activity: plotting out pranks.

Various lines and simple diagrams of red adorned the walls' surface. This is where the magic of being cruel took place. Every provocation was practiced. Every insult perfected. The work was tedious, but the rewards far out-weighed the preparation. Next to the diagrams was a list of everyone in the castle, and next to it a list of things that particularly irked them. She had discovered these obviously through the plethora of pranks and verbal insults she ran each member through.

She may have appeared to have only been a foolish trickster, but no, she was something far better than something so simplistic. By being able to torment them, she was slowly breaking them down. When there was nothing left she would become their empress. At least that's how it always played out in her dreams.

She was always someone not herself in these dreams, but it didn't matter, the parallels worked the same. That is why she did this; they probably called her a sadist, a witch, or something far worse behind her back, but it didn't matter. The second she made them snap, it would all be over, they would have lost.

Larxene stared intently at the incomplete profiles of her 'peers'. A set of boxes that were empty or checked ran alongside the profiles, as well as notes on what seemed to be the best approach to torture said person.

Her eyes ran up and down the lists, some members were more complete than others...some had nothing at all. A bold circle surrounded Xigbar's name as well as some skulls and crossbones, and a few colorful words with arrows pointing to his name. She had vengeance to fulfill against that old man. The blonde woman recalled waking up one morning and opening her door just to be doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she remembered the feeling of icy liquid soaking through her clothing and bones.

"Enjoy this temporary truce Xigbar...I promise to make you suffer _dearly_." It was spoken in a cheerfully evil hush to herself.

A gradual twisted smirk began to appear as she began to mark off diagrams especially for the vengeance against the one-eyed man.

The light in her room remained on well into what should have been the ungodly hours of the morning...

Xigbar was half sitting over the edge of his bed, his legs resting on top of the sheets, his head and back on the floor, arms splayed out to both his sides. Oddly he was less bored if he was upside-down. His ebony book lay open next to his head, his pen sat between the dip of the pages. The writing was jagged, but practically nothing was written on the pages.

For the life of him, he couldn't think of what to write. There were at least twenty or more random things roaming around in his head, nineteen and a half of them which he didn't want to put on the paper. Call it paranoia, but Xigbar liked to keep many things to himself, there was less chance of someone taking advantage of him then.

With a swift motion, he flipped himself right side up and hopped to the wall. He pressed an ear against it. Through the wall he could hear that Xemnas was talking again. His room was right next to Xemnas' room. One would think being able to eavesdrop on one's superior would be entertaining, but it was more frustrating.

Whenever Xemnas talked in his own room, he would speak just loud enough that Xigbar could tell he was talking, but rarely the words. The fact that their leader was talking to himself should have filled him with anxiety. Instead all he felt was exponentially growing curiosity. What did the guy talk about? Who did he think he was talking to? Was he _actually _talking to someone? Or was he conspiring against them all?

The man pulled himself away from the wall and straightened out his black coat. He gave a dejected sigh as he ran a gloved hand through his tied hair.

It really wouldn't surprise him if the guy was simply _insane_.

Casually he picked up the book from the floor, flipping it closed as he did so. He stared at the numeral engraved on the cover, according to it he was Number 2, but what did it mean? Was it the order that they were found or something else? It wouldn't surprise him if the books were just another way for Xemnas to pry into their thoughts.

The sound of taps on the door quickly derailed Xigbar's train of thought. "Trying to break into here _again _little girl?" The words were drawled. Larxene had been trying to 'get back at him' for the past three days. Couldn't the girl take a practical joke?

Xigbar's black book snapped open. Writing as he spoke in an aloof manner, "You should know better, don't you know what Xemnas has planned for us? He said he has a _game _for all of us to play. Shouldn't you be resting up for the BIG event? I wouldn't want to see what your pretty little face looks like when its' angry at the guy who wins."

Footsteps clacked hurriedly away, growing ever fainter and then silence. He smirked and dotted the period of his last sentence in the book.

Plopping the book onto his nightstand he threw himself onto the bed and closed his eye.

Xigbar wasn't one to mislead when it came to his claims of victory after all.

----------------------------------------------  
Guile of a Prankster (Xigbar's POV)

_**Black Book - 1st Leaf - Area Secured**_

_Dunno what he wants exactly. Never been one of those 'touchy feely I got so much to write and feel' people. Hell, even had to think a bit on __**what**__ I even __**want **__to write in here. Writing stuff down in books just means someone else'll be able to hold it against you later._

_Speaking of books, I get to be the 2nd highest head on the totem pole...if it's based on what our book number's are. To be honest, it doesn't seem so important anymore. Some part of me is saying 'Congrats, you're not some idiot lackey; you have AUTHORITY, real AUTHORITY.' Another part is saying, 'hey, that's a nice plus, just keep going with the flow like you always have.' Voice number two is much more agreeable._

_So I'm going to go with the flow and hit the sack. Xemnas mentioned something about a game for tomorrow before he called for that meeting earlier today (I'm probably the only one who knows about it). I don't trust him to know what a 'game' is so its better to be well rested then to have my ass handed back to me. The others can sneak out if they want, they win a battle; I'll be prepared for whatever he throws at me, I win the war and am entitled to a victory dance._

_I think there's someone in front of my door. They're probably trying to pick it open, its probably Larxene, again. She's still trying to get back at me over the 'bucket over her door thing' I guess. Little girl doesn't know who's she dealing with; if she wants to play war with me though, I'm not one to disappoint._

_After tomorrow's activities anyway..._

_Lights out._

_-Xigbar-_

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yet another odd pair to write about. And...WOW THEY DIDN'T MEET UP OR ESCAPE FROM THEIR ROOMS. I decided it would be too...predictable if both members ALWAYS managed to meet up in each chapter. This is the aftermath. I am unsure about Xigbar's personality; some small, irrational part of me says that he should act like a retired military officer, but he's too laid back for that. So the result is someone who 'knows' and 'plays' by the rules of war but has an easy-going disposition. Larxene was far easier to write, given that she is a venomous and spiteful character. However I feel guilty making her seem that...evil, but it seems to suit her. I think I romanticized almost too much about how she goes about teasing people; but I suppose it would work something like that, given how...perfect she seems to play the role of being a vicious person, you can almost sense the practice and planning...

Extremely sorry for the short chapters and entries, but they don't seem like chatty people when it comes to themselves.


	6. Meditate and Contemplate III&V

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Five: Meditate and Contemplate  
(Xaldin and Lexaeus Entries)

---------------------------------------------  
Invisible Resolve (Xaldin's POV)

_**Internal Dialogue - 1st Thought - **__**Deliberation**_

_'Write down all you can' he says..._

_Normally my head is buzzing with __innumerable __thoughts, but when I actually see the empty pages of this book my mind becomes blank as well. How __strange__. Despite my inability at this moment to record anything __truly __'thoughtful', I am compelled to write down words..._

_I should pay a visit to the Edge of Quiescence. My mind will most likely be focused then._

_Having found a comfortable position to sit in on top of the tower roof while I write, I believe I should clarify on what exactly __**is **__the 'Edge of Quiescence'; to summarize, it is a place where I often come to meditate. The location of it is high above where my actual room is. Oddly the location is soothing despite being at such a dangerously high altitude (a misplaced foot hold and no doubt I would be nothing more than a smear on the ground); however the serenity on the spire's rooftop is unmatched._

_Another aspect of it that is unequalled (at the moment) is the view of all of the structure's grounds...As I write this I can currently see Axel wandering around the halls through an open corridor window. I have grown accustomed to the sight of him sneaking around the grounds after curfew. He is most likely visiting Roxas (even though he __**should **__be in his own room, but it is slightly hypocritical of me to think that, considering where I am writing this)._

_I can sympathize with him in a sense. Though I am unsure whether or not it is 'true' sympathy or if it is simply a recollection of the emotion (if what Xemnas says is true). Regardless, lacking a heart has not hindered any of the others' needs to associate with other 'people'. Can we even be called people anymore given our current conditions?_

_But back to my sympathy point- Lexaeus is a unique companion to talk with, so I can somewhat understand Axel and his daily visits to Roxas (it'd be terribly dull if I had no one to converse with; Xigbar can only maintain certain conversations so long before he loses interest). Lexaeus is able to take strong standpoints during our __philosophical __debates. The most recent one would be 'Necessity of Emotions'._

_Personally I believe emotions are internal demons that hinder our decisions. Emotions are the flaws of having a heart. Jealousy can blind the most astute heart from the __simplest __of solutions. Hatred and anger can easily twist a 'noble' heart into one of destructive intent. Fear can obscure the most rational 'logic' of the heart. In that sense I am grateful to no longer possess a heart of my own._

_As I wrote earlier though, Lexaeus has some interesting standpoints as to why people 'need' emotions. I would like to hear the rest of his reasoning, but it will have to wait until we discuss them further tomorrow. Who knows, perhaps my mind can change depending on his words. Nothing seems impossible as of late..._

_-Xaldin-_

---------------------------------------------  
Speculation of Their Beliefs

The nights in the World That Never Was were usually the same each day. It was never humid nor chilling despite the lack seasons and a sun. The same could be said for the altitudes of the world. No matter how high off the ground you were, it would be same temperature-wise as if you were still on the bottommost floor.

Xaldin sat cross-legged atop the metal roof of the spire above his room. Having lacked a 'clear mind' for writing, he had opted to climb up to the location he usually reserved solely for pondering his personal issues.

He had been writing for what seemed to have been hours, out of acquired habit he looked up from his book and down towards the empty, but open-windowed halls of the citadel. A splotch of bright red and most likely spiked hair attached to a blob of black walked briskly through the corridors. He raised an eyebrow in mild amusement at the sight.

"Going to see Roxas after curfew again Axel? Tsk tsk." He muttered to himself and his book as he resumed writing. The younger ones really had no sense of obedience did they?

The black haired man chuckled. He wasn't exactly following the rules himself; Xemnas had ordered them to go back to (and stay inside) their **rooms**. Where he was perched at the moment was not even remotely close to (figuratively and physically) said room. Xaldin wasn't one to disobey the rules or put himself at risk purposely, but he had been compelled to the ledge that oversaw most of the castle regardless.

He never understood it himself, but memories drove him to what he had named 'Edge of Quiescence' every night, even if the memories were never complete in his head. Something important was missing from his perch that would have filled up the mental gaps. Whenever he dozed off on the ledge, his memories would whisper to him a fragmented message. "Don't ---- the ---- mistake -----, ---- -------- led to ---- downfall. Never forget that."

The voice was wispy and constantly faded in and out, only the last three words would ever be spoken clearly. Some part of him felt anxiety whenever he heard the words, but another side of him would criticize himself for his thoughts.

He had nothing to be anxious about; he had no heart after all...or at least for the time being, if Xemnas was to really claim Kingdom Hearts for them in the future anyway. Xaldin did not look forward to that day unlike his fellow Non-Existent Ones.

If there was one emotion he would never miss having, it was fear.

Lexaeus sat silently on his single chair in front of his table. The furniture dwarfed in size when compared to him; despite this he sat comfortably in the metal seat as he wrote in his black book. If one went by outward appearances, he would have struck some as a thoughtless and quiet individual. Outer looks were a far cry when it came to gauging his intelligence. It was true that he was not a scientific man, his strength laid in philosophical fields...

The letters of the pen came out cleanly and neatly as he wrote. The amount of words he had written seemed to compensate for how little he actually spoke on a daily basis. He had learned long ago to keep silent unless he was willing to speak completely and shamelessly about his thoughts. Those words were usually reserved for special occasions, such as his debates with Xaldin.

Lexaeus was one of the few who constantly questioned the scraps of his memory and his 'false' emotions since he had arrived. However, he kept his more 'personal' thoughts mainly to himself; the others most likely did not share his opinion based on what he had learned from his conversations with Xaldin and to an extent, Vexen.

The only other person who he had ever spoken to about emotions was Xemnas. The older Non-Existent One offered him only one phrase, "You will all understand what I am trying to do someday." Xemnas gave him a small but strained smile before returning to his study.

He didn't know the meaning of the words back then, but at the mention of Xemnas striving to obtain Kingdom Hearts, he understood. They were going to take back their hearts.

The orange haired man was secretly anticipating the day they would regain their hearts, but he was also concerned about Xemnas. The emotion that their leader had expressed that day before he retreated back to his room bothered Lexaeus. The emotion seemed familiar, but he could not recall the name of it.

The nameless man in his memories once wore that same expression. He had worn it for the people he was trying to protect.

He could not remember what he was trying so desperately to protect them from though.

Heart or no heart, he felt guilty about it.

----------------------------------------------  
Introspective Ideal (Lexaeus' POV)

_**Personal Memoir - 1st Chapter - Debate**_

_Where does the time go?_

_I have only been in this place for a little under two weeks (despite there being no real way to tell the time, something internal tells me roughly how many days have passed) and each day the state of this world has bothered me, I have no idea why as to __**what **__the cause may be. Another aspect that is unsettling is the recent issuing of these journals. What purpose do they serve aside from textual records? I have not spent nearly enough time to observe the others and their behavior, but there is nothing outstanding that would have prompted these books...surely there must be a more logical reason then to simply 'record our thoughts'..._

_I distantly recall that books such as these were only handed out by a head psychologist (one who is meant to study the workings of a mind) to individuals who have emotional distress. With the exception of Saix and perhaps even Xemnas himself, we all function well within 'normal' bounds; at least that is what my __impromptu __assumption is. Maybe I am looking too much into the matter. Maybe this is some strange token of kindness from Xemnas. The possibilities are as endless as they are unanswered._

_Something that piques my __curiosity __in particular is how Xemnas gained the ability to 'summon' objects out of thin air. It is not an impossible task given some of the past instances I can recall from my 'previous life'. But whenever I attempt to use the ability myself (using the methods recalled from my previous memories), nothing happens. It might be due to the fact we no longer have our hearts that some portion of the process must be altered to achieve the same effect. I should have asked Xemnas before leaving the meeting room. I will assume there is a logical __explanation __as to why he hasn't openly shared the information on utilizing such an ability._

_Considering that was the first time I have seen him use such 'magic', perhaps he has not mastered it fully yet. The man is very difficult to read in terms of actions, intent, expression and most evidently, emotion._

_Unlike the rest of us, he seems to be practically emotionless, save for some exceptions. He only seems to act with emotion when he wishes to emphasize something. He must have discovered a way to completely sever his previous emotional memories from his current self. I don't understand why he would do something as drastic as that, or better yet, for what purpose._

_Personally, I believe we should try to retain some shred of our emotions. It is what little we have that reminds us that we are 'human'. Emotions are what strengthen the heart and essentially, the soul. Courage steels one's ambition and determination better then any forged weapon. Compassion is a type of strength that is able to give one hope, more then any medical remedy. ...Even sorrow can strengthen one's __resolve__; by realizing the mistakes of the past we can reinforce our beliefs and achieve our goals._

_But...the heart has as much potential to be strong as it can be fragile. That is what my scattered memories tell me. They tell me of a nameless man who was unable to save those around him despite how strong his heart was..._

_His __curiosity __led him to release something terrible, and he was engulfed by it._

_Is the darkness really that much stronger?_

_-Lexaeus-_

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: ...Well those were two that were very interesting to write about. They sound too similar...DAMMIT. Both got so few lines to say in the games. Xaldin in particular. Poor man. I was pretty much flailing around in the dark when it came to writing them. BUT, there is one thing that is undeniable about the two of them; they are non-talkative, but intelligent Nobodies. Both of them have the unfortunate fate of having the stereotype of 'they're buff so they're stupid' slapped onto them. They are also two of the most neglected characters (in my opinion) in all of KH:CoM and KH2, and for reasons that are COMPLETELY ILLOGICAL they are ignored even further. I heart them even if their boss battles were "tricky".

Xaldin seems like someone who would find value in focus, meditation, etc. OOC as it may/may not sound, in my opinion it would take a lot of skill/discipline (and to many extents, dexterity) to wield six lances simultaneously. He seems like a person who can restrain himself for the most part, even when he happily shish-kabobs you mercilessly (he has that copy-righted Org13 'air of superiority' as well). He also seems to like creating difficult dilemmas for other people (the 'Belle or the Rose' scene) based on his own experiences and opinion (he also seemed to unknowingly contradict himself in what little game-time he had: the whole 'get Beast Angry' then turn around and get royally pissed himself).

Lexaeus seems to prattle a lot about emotion doesn't he? The philosophy bit is drawn from his element, which is earth. In my twisted mind, earth is somehow connected with 'meaning of life, aka the cycle of life', it is also connected with an impression of him having a level-headed thought process (Vexen would not hang around a moron voluntarily, non-neophyte or not). Another draw on his personality would be how he uses a Tomahawk, for some reason that screams 'warrior spirit', and given that the weapons seem to relate heavily to the Nobody using it, 'warrior spirit' could be based on how determined one's heart is, and since the heart is connected to emotion, BAM. Tomahawk Warrior Spirit Determination Heart Emotion! Lastly, his title 'The Silent Hero'. We all get the silent part perfectly loud and clear (no pun intended), but the 'hero' part suggests that he has/had 'good' in him. And 'good' in KH equals 'heart' which equals 'emotion'. And that is why Lexaeus is such a 'deeply' philosophical person.

My apologies for such short chapters. Another apology is for how the Author's Notes seem to be getting subsequently longer with each chapter.


	7. Something Like It VIII&XIII

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Six: Something Like It  
(Axel and Roxas Entries)

---------------------------------------------  
We're Friends Right? (Axel's POV)

_**The Bloggery - 1st Rambling - What's Up?**_

_Journal eh? Well time to fill it up with all sorts of wordy crap! Huh, lessee... Let's start with the beginning of the day. That's nice and boring._

_Got up this morning (well as close as it can get to a morning here anyway) and walked down to Roxas' room. He was still sleeping, which wasn't surprising. I guess he's not a morning person, or maybe I just get up too early...I don't need much sleep to function apparently. So I tried to shake him awake; he just swatted at the air and mumbled something about 'not being lazy'._

_Since shaking him awake failed, I ripped his blanket off. He resisted by curling up into a ball. With all the effort he was putting forth to stay asleep you'd think he'd woken up by then...So I went to the next best thing, and no, it wasn't dumping water on him. I held his nose closed. He woke up failing about like a flustered...chicken? It was funny even if he was yelling at me. After I stopped laughing, he gave me a weird look. I think he was trying to glare at me. I tried to mimic his 'glare' back at him; it was so __**hard **__not to snicker while doing it. Eventually he cracked up and started laughing too. Yeah, that was how the day started._

_From morning to noon we pretty much just hung out and did the usual. Somewhere around what could be called the afternoon, we tried to get into the game room, but it was somehow locked. Don't ask me how doors without knobs or handles lock, but we couldn't get in either way. Roxas wanted to go back to his room after that, but it was locked up too. I tried my own room and the damn door wouldn't budge. I even tried some of the other rooms, but they were locked as well. It was pretty screwed up._

_We eventually gave up and went up to the 'common room' to play some tic-tack-toe and hangman. Now that I think about it, Roxas thinks up some of the weirdest words, like 'Thalassa'. I've never even __**HEARD **__of that word, but supposively it __**IS **__one...until I can prove it wrong with a dictionary...as soon as I can find one anyway. I think the closest thing to a 'normal word' that he's ever used was 'Mushrooms'; gotta question him on that..._

_Anyway, when we first got there, Saix was doing his usual 'gawking at the sky 24/7' thing. We managed to get in a good seventy games of tic-tack-toe before switching to hangman. I suppose that's when the others started arriving; over the course of our endless hangman games, the others had migrated to the common room as well. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that they all got locked out of their rooms (and all the other rooms) too._

_All of us rarely get together without Xemnas telling us to, and without extremely persuasive negotiation with some of the more stubborn ones I might add. The lockdown was probably a new trick of his, it sure as hell wasn't a coincidence that we all wound up in the same place._

_But anyway- While at that __'conveniently' __scheduled bore-fest of Xemnas', we got these funky books. They make for good paperweights I guess. After getting our books, he told us to go back to our rooms to write in them. How typical. Don't have much else to really write about, and it's still early in the day. I think I'll pay a little visit to Roxas, he's probably bored out of his mind too._

_Well, no answer to the knocking on the door. He probably went to sleep. Kid seems like he can pass out at the drop of a dime. I should probably sleep too, maybe it's later then I thought?_

_Hmm, it's kinda funny now that I'm re-reading this. Being 'friends' with Roxas wasn't really part of the plan... Who'd have thought I would become __**actual **__friends with him? If Roxas ever found out about 'it' though...he'd probably be crushed, he barely seems to trust anyone as it is..._

_Even if what Xemnas and the others say is probably true, I think I can actually 'feel' what it's like to have a friend again, I-_

_...It's really late._

_-Axel-_

---------------------------------------------  
Not Defined in the Dictionary

It was certainly no secret to the redhead that he was one to stay seated in one place for ANY period of time. He had been writing random jumbles of words in his journal for some amount of time. Having reached the end of his patience for the activity, he now sought out his "hang-out buddy", Roxas.

Axel considered the introverted blond to be a sort of social challenge. Any cheerful emotion he managed to extract from the boy was considered an accomplishment-. Axel's thoughts came to a screeching halt despite how his feet continued walking their memorized path.

"Social Challenge?" It wasn't quite the term for it anymore. True, it had been the _original _definition for their relationship...but now, now it was something different. The man found himself at a loss in light of the realization. However, any further contemplation of the subject had to be shoved aside when he noticed his arrival at Roxas' room.

He took a deep breath before rapping his knuckles on the pale door in front of him. At no reply he decided to knock harder, only to stop himself halfway at the action. Roxas had been tired that morning. Axel slowly retracted his hand from the door.

With a resigned half-smile he turned away from the door and headed back to his room. No response meant that Roxas was probably sleeping. Axel figured that he wouldn't mind tolerating a night of boredom for his friend's sake.

Roxas strained his ears for Axel's footsteps from where he sat on his bed. Relieved that he could no longer hear the other's boots on the floor, he returned his attention back to writing in his book.

Writing seemed to lift some invisible weight off of his shoulders and his nonexistent heart. He was determined to destroy that burden entirely, even if he had to ignore what little attention was paid to him.

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Are We? (Roxas' POV)

_**My Journal - 1st Day**_

_There are a lot of things I don't get about this castle. There are even less things I get about the people who live here. Another thing I don't get would be this feeling. I just don't think I belong here for some reason. I'm not depressed or anything like that. I just don't think I'm like the rest of them...it's just a gut feeling, but it doesn't seem to be going away._

_It's hard to describe. All of these people feel like complete strangers to me, and they __**are **__for the most part; but, at the same time they almost feel like they're my dysfunctional __**family**__. Larxene is the evil older sister, Demyx is a happy older brother, and Axel is the eldest sibling who looks after the youngest one...which would be me..._

_Like I said, it's hard to describe...Axel is probably the only one who really hangs around me, it's almost weird to be treated nicely by him for some reason...I should probably be grateful that he's friendly. He could have always been like Larxene. Demyx is nice to me too. He's always so cheerful and carefree, I kind of wish I could be like that. How do Axel and him do it? It seems so difficult._

_Maybe Larxene is right, maybe I __**am **__acting depressed and anti-social. I should change that part of me. I'm not going to lie about how I don't want to be how I am; constantly feeling sorry over what seems to be nothing. I don't even understand __**why **__I feel guilty, I haven't done anything, much less something terrible; but it always seems to be weighing down on my mind._

_I think someone once said that dreams were the mind's way of telling you something was wrong. All I can 'see' in my dreams is a vast space of white, and a large pair of white doors that are tightly shut in the far-off corner. It is the only thing in the dreams that ever seem 'solid'. There are other things there, but they are just blurry outlines filled with nothing. They look like other worlds, but I've never 'been' to any world except this one. There are even people in these places sometimes, but they are always blocked out by unfocused shades of black or grey. There is only one 'person' who seems to be different from the rest. He is blocked out by grey, but there is a portion of pure black swirling near where his heart would be. He seems the most __familiar __to me out of all of the people, and he is the only one that really 'talks' to me._

_When I think about it, Axel is kind of like that person in my dreams...only he's less competitive and more supportive. Actually...Axel's not like that person, he seems more like a real friend. One that'll always be there. One that doesn't run away. One that doesn't change for the worse._

_The person in my dream now only scolds me about fake memories...even if he and I are similar in that we are different from the others, he had abandoned me in the end and he lied about it. He is no longer my companion, he is my __**enemy**__. The others in the castle are more of a 'friend' then him. Axel, Demyx, Luxord, Lexeaus...even people like Xigbar, Xaldin, Zexion, Saix, Xemnas, Vexen, Marluxia and Larxene...they're all better then him..._

_I'm going to take Axel's advice and cheer up. I'm going to follow Demyx's example about not dwelling on the negative thoughts of the past. I'm going to focus on enjoying the time I have. I'm going to live in the present from now on._

_-I'm going to lock that silhouette up behind the door and throw away the key._

_It's about time I moved on from that stupid dream._

_-Roxas-_

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh wow, you didn't see me writing this pair of characters together AT ALL. /sarcasm. Well, Axel sounds like he's in dire need of some Ritalin. He also sounds like he's in denial or regretting something. Roxas needs LOTS of Prozac. Both have personalities that like to keep things bottled up for the most part, but desperately need someone to 'talk to' even if they don't realize/accept it. Roxas also has funky memory references! Can you guess them all? Behold all of the new "plot holes" that have sprung up! The next chapter is a look into Xemnas' entries (he gets entries _too_, GASP). He gets a plural in terms of POV entries due to the fact that he is a special boy, and is pretty much my plot tool in terms of clearing up details and tying together everything. Xemnas gets to start his 'game' as well. What WILL the casualties be?

Sorry that the chapter is so short given the updating time. Unfortunately they are 'key players' (no pun intended), so they don't get to say that much. Hell, none of them get to say much until this damn story gets rolling...


	8. His Thoughts

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter 7: His Thoughts  
(Xemnas Entries)

---------------------------------------------  
_**File #1**_

_This so called plane of Non-Existence is indeed an enigmatic paradox. We only speculated something like this even existed, but lo and behold, here is the undeniable proof. Since I had first arrived here in a fragmented state, this is possibly one of first instances where I've ever felt 'whole'. I was inclined to test this newfound feeling of false completeness and sheer will seems to have conjured up this book. It had appeared in front of me from what seemed to have been a mass of swirling thorny darkness soon after I had desired for a way to record my thoughts..._

_I can only assume it is the same darkness that we first tampered with. Still, it is a pleasant surprise that in return for having lost my heart, I have gained a new and invaluable power; the possibility of unadulterated control over darkness. That fading image of a man in my mind would have been envious of his student. It is only natural that one be jealous of someone who can embrace the luxury of true power._

_Hm, I see how you function Fate... You allow me to taste power, but deny me the euphoria of pride and the foolish egotism of it. Emotion truly is a double-edged sword. Memories however, are a more interesting matter. Distantly I can still recall these alien emotions of dignity...but they are a mere mimicry of the true expression. This realization spurs on a new question: Am I still capable of instances such as envy or betrayal? Even the simplest of creatures retain the capacity for these actions._

_...The others must not know of this yet, I do not have enough information on the stability of this ability. The other five do not seem to have fully recovered yet from the fatigue of their conversion to a Non-Existence. -For all I know, this power could be a talent unique to only myself, and I feel a semblance of duty to not put them at senseless risk at this moment with such information._

_Still, I am puzzled as well as comforted by the familiarity I seem to possess for these five strangers. I am sure the feelings are mutual._

_However, as an extra precaution, they musn't know of the existence of this book, or about the recent development of this power._

----

"Hey Xemnas! -What're you doing?"  
"Nothing. I was simply lost in thought."  
"Gotcha... -Whoa hey...who's that Lexaeus?"  
"Zexion, he just arrived-."  
"He looks like crap."  
"He appears to be in more of a critical condition then-"  
"God**damn** Xaldin, its just an expression!"  
"Vexen, can you help?"  
"I have very little experience in diagnosing sadly..."  
"So what the hell do we do then?"  
"...Just let him rest."  
"...Seriously?"  
"He will recover with time."  
"Understood, I'll find a room for him."

---------------------------------------------  
_**File #2**_

_Now that I have more than appropriate amounts of time to elaborate on my- our perplexing situation, I shall start from the beginning. In a sense it was more like a twisted rebirth. I had arrived to this empty world first; alone, disoriented and clad in a strange, but reminiscent black cloak. I remember walking inexplicably towards a massive establishment of metal. Without straying too much into trivial detail, I had explored all of the citadel's grounds only to discover that there was virtually nothing except empty halls and multitudes of rooms with usually locked doors. I recall falling unconscious in the topmost (as well as the only unlocked) room for no real reason; however, I now know it was an adverse side effect of the body's sudden lack of a heart._

_I (still) do not know how long I was blacked out. But once I had regained consciousness, I continued inspecting the castle's area for any previously missed details. That was when the first of the "familiar strangers" appeared. In a flurry of splintered white and black tendrils spurting forth out of nothing, a scarred man was unceremoniously dropped onto the ground; he would later tell me that he was named Xigbar._

_To be honest, my first impression of him was someone who had no regard for authority, much less mine. However, he has proven to be very obedient. Perhaps his raw loyalty can be crudely related to that of a dog. He could be pledging his fealty to me as a sign of unspoken gratitude for "saving" him. An archaic notion, but it is welcomed nonetheless. Over the next consecutive days, the others had begun to arrive as well._

_The second day brought forth a burly man named Xaldin, who was found at the very fringes of the fortress by Xigbar. My first thoughts of him were that he was nothing more then a mindless brute. After conversing with him however, that idea was quickly dispelled._

_On the third day, Xaldin had found a gaunt and older-looking man named Vexen. He claimed he was a scientist. I had little doubt that he was given the way he carried himself with intellectual superiority; despite this, he has showed nothing but the humblest of respect for me. I do not have the faintest idea where it stems from; it is yet another riddle that has been added onto the ever-growing list._

_By the fourth day Vexen had discovered a newly formed Non-Existent One. He was a reserved man as well as a well-built one. I was later informed that his name was Lexaeus._

_The fifth and most recent day, Lexaeus had found a diminutive Non-Existent one. He is by far the youngest one out of all of us. Lexaeus tells me that his name is Zexion. Much to my surprise (given his initial condition of a likeness to a coma) he seems to have recovered his basic motor functions like the others after a day of rest._

_Having recollected all of the previous days, it is most logical to comment on today's activities. Currently this is being written in the same room that I had blacked out in; I have claimed this room as my own and the others seem to have followed suit for their own quarters. Oddly they have all chosen to be next to each other based on arrival order. Though I could hardly call it choice given that each of their "respective rooms" unlocked only when they arrived at its' door. Whether or not it is a coincidence matters very little aside from the fact that it is convenient for myself and the others._

_Speaking of them, they are most likely outside and exploring the grounds for themselves now that they have the freedom and time to do so. I will soon be wandering around the area myself. There appears to have been a recent extension of sorts to the castle. Numerous of the previously locked rooms are no longer barred from me. There also seems to have been a general expansion of the area around the stronghold. I will be able to draw better conclusions if I observe and record the new "growth" of this world._

_-I have no possible answers as to why the world is "acting" like this. Apparently there are more Non-Existent Ones then I first thought. However, this new arrival, "Saix", is different from the others. There are no feelings of familiarity about him whatsoever. I would have questioned him further, but he was severely unstable at the moment._

_While trying to make our way back to the castle, Saix passed out. His timing was horrendous and inconvenient. I was carrying him back to the castle when a portal suddenly appeared in front of me. Feeling no danger from it despite how it reeked of darkness, I gladly passed through it and was deposited in front of the room next to Zexion's. With slight skepticism I tried the doorknob, half-expecting it to be locked. Much to my "joy" it clicked open and I placed Saix in his room before promptly resuming my exploration of the castle._

_However, unexpected events had occurred. Zexion, Vexen, Xaldin and Lexaeus had returned with more Non-Existent Ones, who also bore no familiarity to me much like Saix. They had reported to me about their discoveries before I spoke to the new members myself._

_The first I met with was outspoken and talked in a joking and scattered manner. Despite his juvenile speech and tone, he retained the capacity to understand basic rules and principles. Partway in asking where he came from, he blanked out before collapsing into his bed. Upon leaving the room, Zexion informed me that the young man's name was Axel before distracting himself with a strange toy. When I inquired about where he got such an item, he told me that he had found it in a recently opened storage room. How interesting._

_The next new member I spoke with was one that was roughly the same age and the same questionable level of intelligence as Axel. Vexen had mentioned to me that the young man's name was Demyx before hastily retreating to "his" recently found "precious" lab in the lower levels. Demyx himself was a bubbly individual when I first approached him, but as the conversation wore on, he seemed to grow more fearful of me until he seemed to pass out from his anxiety. Though, it was more likely to have been due from the Non-Existence conversion. These new Non-Existent ones seem to be much younger then the "original six" of us as well as ignorant... Still, there is now a lab here as well?_

_The fourth arrival, I was unable to speak with, but based on the information that Lexaeus and Xaldin have shared with me, he is closer to our age and seems to have a higher degree of knowledge then the other two. Apparently this man's name is Luxord._

_...Time certainly passes by faster when it is being wasted. While returning to my room I ran into Xigbar. From what I could gather from his habitually slanged dialect, the castle now has a kitchen. Given how we have survived so far without food or water, a kitchen seems pointless. Am I missing something about this bizarre world? Perhaps it is a sheerly sentimental and aesthetic addition?_

----

"Xemnas, I found a strange scarecrow of a man, I brought him back for you."  
"I see, so more are appearing..."  
"**More?**"  
"I found a man with an odd scar on his face earlier."  
"So that's why the seventh room was locked..."  
"Are there any other details?"  
"His...intelligence leaves much to be desired."  
"Interesting. Zexion?"  
"Yes Xemnas?"  
"What exactly is that contraption of yours?"  
"Oh. It's some sort of miniature puzzle, it's rather mesmerizing."  
"Where did you get it?"  
"I found it in one of the upper rooms; there are several other puzzles up there as well."  
"...Those rooms were locked earlier."  
"I guess someone unlocked them then."  
"Where is this man? I'd like to speak with him."  
"The eighth room."

----

"Xemnas!"  
"Did you find someone Vexen?"  
"There-- why, yes I did. How did the news reach you so quickly?"  
"Two more have already been brought in, a third is not surprising."  
"Ah, yes, of course..."  
"So where did you put him?"  
"That neophyte brat Demyx is in the ninth room."  
"...neophyte brat?"  
"It is the only way to categorize them."  
"I suppose the terming fits."  
"If you will kindly excuse me, I would like to return to my precious labs."

----

"Have you come to report to me as well, Xaldin and Lexaeus?"  
"...We found a man named Luxord on the outskirts of the castle so we brought him back."  
"Where is he now?"  
"The tenth room-"  
"-But he is unconscious at the moment Xemnas."  
"Such a pity."

-----

"Heeeey Bossman!"  
"Where have youbeen Xigbar? _Surely _you didn't miss all of today's chaos."  
"Nah, heard Vexen complaining about it when I passed him."  
"Did you now?"  
"Yeah. Oh hey, did you know that we have a kitchen?"  
"No...?"  
"Well, we do, but there isn't a damn thing to eat."  
"We don't need food to survive anymore-"  
"Yeah, I know, but its stupid and a damn shame to have it go unused."  
"_I'll be sure to stock it after I waltz down to the grocery store_."  
"Sure thing, and while you're at it, bring back some sandwiches, some pastrami would be _awesome_..."

---------------------------------------------  
_**File #3**_

_I have continued my inspectional tour of the building to validate the claims of Xigbar, Vexen and Zexion. In doing so I have discovered an additional room, a library. It is easily one of the most essential facilities in my opinion. What is even more intriguing is not only its sheer size, but how filled it is with books... My curiosity seems to be getting the better of me...I must read this one._

_Such an...interesting book by this "Ansem". The very name of him seems to fill me with deep-seated rage...his data seems to parallel what little I can recall that concerns the darkness and other worlds. The bit of information that caught my attention the most was his mention of six students...I feel it is too much of a coincidence; it is evidence of what my own and possibly the others' previous lives were. I cannot risk such unneeded disorder over this information or anything else pertaining to this "Ansem" and his "students"- However, I have no idea how I can possibly hope to filter out all of the books by this man. I do not want to destroy so much information over an insect like him. I could try blocking off the room from the others, but that would attract their attention and suspicions. To simply ignore it would be the most foolish of actions._

_-That book, it mentioned something about the theory of heartless. Creatures borne of the darkness in everyone's heart, their own hearts lacking in the sense that they no longer feel 'human emotion', hence the name being more of a play on words then being literal... If that much is true, then there must be other equals of it in terms of Non-Existence besides beings such as myself. I must simply discover the means by which to call forth the lesser Non-Existent Ones; the theory is sound, so the reality of it must certainly be true._

_I must say. I was shocked by what the lesser Non-Existent Ones look like. They are pale, elastic creatures that bend unnaturally without bones and seem to twitch through the air as they act. They bear an insignia that looks remarkably similar, if not exactly like the designs decorating the building. I can conclude that it is the mark of "existences" not meant to exist. -I should resume my original task._

_Commanding the lesser Non-Existent Ones requires little skill, they eagerly obey orders to a point that borders obsession. Sifting through all of the books in the library became a far simpler task with their zealous aid. Apparently at the instructions of "find all books that mention Ansem" they were be able to pinpoint any book that textually utters the scoundrel's name. Even if there were only three more books by him that were found, I feel more at ease._

_The lesser Non-Existent Ones twitch involuntarily as they wait for the next task, how disturbing... Despite this, their docile servitude brings me strange comfort. However, I have no further need their of Existences at this moment; hopefully I can dismiss them back to wherever they originally came from before the others notice-_

_These creatures seem to possess the ability speak to me through unnatural means; they refer to themselves as "Dusks" while they call me "Superior". Their "voices" were unsettling, so I returned them as quickly as possible back to their "home". I seem to have neglected the possibility that they could have lucid thought processes. How careless of me._

_I am thankful for the speedy departure of the Dusks. Lexaeus had been searching for a chessboard based on what he had heard from Zexion. Had he come in mere moments earlier he would have come to strange conclusions. Instead of continuing his search elsewhere, he asked me a set of bizarre questions that stemmed from something so ordinary._

_The only way I could possibly deter him from asking further questions was to give him as ambiguous of a truthful answer as possible. -Truthful because I cannot risk distrust, and ambiguity for obvious reasons. The phrase left him shocked enough to allow my escape back to the secrecy my room._

_I remember skimming over passages that spoke of something called "Kingdom Hearts", and a feeling of deja vu concerning renewed desire for such a thing...judging by my recalled anticipation, I will be trying to achieve possession of it in the future._

_I will continue to read the books in better detail when I have the privacy to do so. I believe Demyx has found something based on the way he is now gleefully yelling at the top of his lungs in the castle halls..._

_We have yet another new Non-Existent One. The best way to describe him would be a wounded, but rabid animal. However, I cannot blame him given how Demyx tends to act, and his horrendous assigning of nick-names...such as "Mar-Mar" for the Non-Existent One he had brought in. The man himself gritted out "It's Marluxia" each time Demyx called him "Mar-Mar" or any other childish variation of his name. Had Marluxia been capable of passing out from erratically high blood-pressure, he would have instead of from the Non-Existence exhaustion..._

----

"I was expecting more books by him."  
_ansemansemyouwere**looking**foransemrightsuperior?dusksfoundallbooks.dusksswearit._  
"What?"  
_dusksarehappyto**help**superiorduskswilldo**anything**forsuperior._  
"I no longer need your help, can you disappear for the time being?"  
_yesyesofcoursedusks**will**duskswillwaitathomeforsuperior'sfuture**wishes**..._  
"...Disgusting creatures."

----

"Anything you would recommend?"  
"What are you talking about?"  
"The books. You are taking some of them, so surely there must be a genre you like?"  
"Like? 'Liking' is a lesser form of 'love'. Beings lacking hearts do not have the capacity to 'love'."  
"...It is only a matter of preference Xemnas-"  
"That is a derivation of an emotion."  
"But what about the 'emotions' we feel now? Surely we are capable of-"  
"It is a pale imitation of the real article. You should learn to accept that Lexaeus."  
"Isn't acceptance a derivation of emotion as well?  
"..."  
"How can you suggest a solution that entails a heart when we lack one given your standpoint?"  
"Even mindless animals can 'accept' things Lexaeus, clearly we do not require hearts to do the same."  
"Then why do you cut yourself off from the rest of us? What are you trying to hide from or possibly achieve in your solitude?"  
"...You will all understand what I am trying to do someday."

----

**"XEEEEEEEEEEEEEEMNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS!!"**  
"Yes...Demyx?"  
"I found Marly here!"  
"It's...Marluxia..."  
"Uh, well Mar-Mar-"  
"It's...**Marluxia**..."  
"-ain't feeling too great, I think he needs someplace to lie down."  
"You did a _good _job on bringing him here, Demyx."  
"Really? Thanks Xemnas!"  
"...never mind."  
"So, where can I set Pinky down?"  
"...**IT'S**...**MA**R...LU...x..."  
"Oh wow, he fainted. That's not good...my arms are getting kinda tired now."  
"Take him to the eleventh room..."  
"Yes sir! Aaaaah! So heavy!"

---------------------------------------------  
_**File #4**_

_I have finished reading all four of the books by "Ansem". Interestingly enough, I feel like I learned nothing even though the information is new. To reiterate, a person is composed of two main parts, the body and the heart. The heart is originally formed of light; however darkness can fester in it if the heart is 'evil' enough. Should such an 'evil' overwhelm and then corrupt the heart, the 'soul' is lost and the body is cast off to create a creature that is 'made' of darkness. There are different levels of these creatures, some are obviously more powerful then others, all dependent on the original's heart. All heartless hunger for the hearts of others, and stronger hearts attract more heartless; the attraction is very similar to moths to a flame..._

_All heartless lust after powerful hearts, such as the heart of a world; finding and reaching the world's heart is no easy task of course. The greatest and most ultimate heart would be "Kingdom Hearts", the heart of ALL worlds. Supposively, all hearts come from this "Kingdom Hearts" and so do they return to it. I wonder, does this mean that Kingdom Hearts purely light, or does darkness lurk within it? Or could it possibly be...pure darkness?_

_Based on this information and drawing some of my own conclusions, us Non-Existences must be the by-product of a person who has become a heartless. We lack hearts and we do not hunger for them, I can then assume that we are seperate in that sense from the beings of darkness. A theory I have yet to prove is how we can retain thought and mimic emotions. I assume it is from the soul's memories our shells of bodies may recall. Even if the body is cast away, the fragments of memories will remain with us to an extent, perhaps it is because the body is what contains the 'soul'. Still, I wonder what would happen if a heartless and its Non-Existent counterpart managed to bring itself back together again?_

_The other passages make several references to a door. Supposedly these doors are what separate other worlds as well as act as a shield to each world's respectable heart- does even this shell of a world have a heart? Most likely not given that this world was never meant to have existed. "The World That Never Was", that is what this world shall be called._

_The more I think about the characteristics between the heartless and Non-Existent Ones, the more the similarities between the two become increasingly apparent. One book that was documenting the different "species" of heartless mentioned the observation of "developed additional abilities" that would be unique to a specific category of heartless. The ability to gather more heartless as well as "teleportation" are powers all of the heartless shared. I have discovered these "default" parallel abilities for the Non-Existent; I must find out if we Non-Entities have "unique" abilities as well. Perhaps I shall experiment with the Dusks to confirm my theory._

_After repeatedly asking the Dusks several variations of the question "realizing one's own unique power" they have shown me a strange room that is sealed off from the rest of the castle. It is filled with what appear to be a total of thirteen vertical tablets that resemble blank tombstones. The Dusks seem to treat this room like it is sacred and they refer to it as the "Proof of Existence"; the name is a notion of optimism no doubt... One of the Dusks has been avidly pointing at a lone slab that stands in the front of the other twelve. With the way it excitedly repeats the word "Superior" over and over, I can only assume that it is mine. However, if each stone represents a Non-Existent such as myself, I can assume ten of the other stones are the other's; so, to whom do the other two belong to?_

_Examining the slab has yielded no results or clues. The Dusks that idly worship the room around me offer me no inkling for actions I should take. Perhaps I should try the same command I use to summon the Dusks and portals on the slate..._

_I do not have the slightest idea what happened. My "tombstone" is now gone and all I can feel is a stinging sensation that seems to encase my hands... I have little time to worry about it though, the Dusks have informed me that there is a new arrival that I must attend to._

_Luxord and Marluxia were the ones who found the most recent addition to our group of misfits, a young woman whose name is Larxene. She is a rebellious woman who was able to put up a commendable front of stability before she most likely passed out in "her" room. Her hostility should have troubled me, but she is the perfect diversion for the other "neophytes" while I continue my research..._

_When I returned to the room, "Proof of Existence", I asked the Dusks about what happened to my own "tombstone". From what I can tell of their incessant chatter, the stones are the stored "potentials" of higher Non-Existences. By "activating" these structures, a Non-Existence is able to access hidden powers... I have asked the Dusks about what my "hidden power" is, and they tell me "control over nothing". I will investigate the matter further._

_The Dusks are chanting amongst themselves about somehow giving me more power. All I feel at the moment is a burning pain in my hands that seems to be growing with each passing moment. It is becoming more difficult to write-_

----

"Tell me Dusks, how does one realize their unique power?"  
_**superior**mustspeak**question**much**simplier**dusksdo**not**understand**dusks**are**sorry**._  
"Is there a way to obtain more power?  
_dusksare**sorry**duskscannot**answer**question**dusks**donot**know**._  
"...Do you understand what are the heartless?"  
_**yes**dusks**know**the**heartless**heartlessare-_  
"The heartless have powers that were given to them from the darkness."  
_yesyesdarknessisasourceof**great**powerbut**superior**alreadycanusethe**darkness**-_  
"What does the Nothingness give to its Non-Existences?"  
_dusksnow**understand**yesdusksunderstand**superior**wantstogo**there**duskswillshow**superior**._

----

"What is this place?"  
_called**proofofexistence**duskson**hallowedground**somuch**power**superioris**pleased**?_  
"Why are there thirteen?"  
_**one**for**each**ofthe**others**like**superior**._  
"And which of them would be mine?"  
_**superior's**superior's**superior**cangain**power**dusk**thinks**._  
"How exactly?"  
_duskdoes**not**know**superior**should**know**._

----

"What happened-?"  
_superior**superior**.  
**is**superior**satisfied**?superior**must**be**statisfied**...  
superior**superior**the**twelevth**oneis**here**._  
"...I will attend to that first then."  
_**superior**wants**dusks**todo**what**?_  
"Wait here for the time being."  
_dusks**understand**._

----

"And who the hell is HE?"  
"Lord Xemnas! AH! A thousand apologies! This lovely sunflower-"  
"He means **Larxene**."  
"SHE means uptight **bitch**-"  
"Shut your damn mouth you pine-tree headed narcissist."  
"BUG-HAIRED WHORE."  
"PINK-HAIRED FA- **PUT ME DOWN YOU BEARDED BASTARD**-!"  
"Terribly sorry Xemnas, Marluxia and little Miss Sunshine are both a touch cranky."  
"Tch..._cranky he says_..."  
"I'll show YOU cranky- HMMF? **MMMMMMFF!**"  
"Do we have a room available for our charming guest?"  
"The twelfth room should suffice Luxord..."  
"Ah yes of course! The room down the hall from Marluxia's is a perfect choice!"  
"**WHAT?**"

----

_**superior**has**returned**superiorhas**returned!**_  
"I need to know, -what exactly happened to my tablet?"  
_**dusks**do**not**know**superior**hasreleased**superior's**power._  
"In that case, what IS that power?"  
_**superior**hasthe**strongest**power  
**superior**wouldhave**strongest**power,**superior**is**superior**.  
**superior**has**control**over**nothing**._  
"Control over nothing..?"  
_**superior**does**not**sound**pleased**.  
but**superior**has**best**power.  
**superior**mustwant**more**power...  
**dusks**can**give**more**power**to**superior**.  
**but**it**is**dusks**treasure**!  
it**is**for**superior**!  
dusks**failed**.  
dusks**must**please**superior**.  
more**power**for**superior**!_

---------------------------------------------  
_**File #5**_

_It has been two days since the burning sensations in my hands started, only today have they **fully **subsided since then. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised to discover **what** exactly "control over Nothing" entails. The pain seems incredibly reasonable for the new powers I have gained; I still have not finished discovering what can be done with the element of Nothingness. In the meantime I would like to ask what exactly was the 'treasure' the Dusks were speaking about. As of late their flurry of words for sentences seem to have been becoming clearer and clearer... Their most notable conversations concern a 'special' princess they had recently found... The only thing that is female within the immediate world is Larxene however, and I severely doubt it is her._

_Apparently, the Dusks' treasure was a stray heart that they had found off of one of the other worlds, specifically from one called "Hollow Bastion". If one heart can give this much power, I cannot fathom what even more hearts can grant me. I will ask the dusks about showing me how to get to this "Hollow Bastion"._

_The Dusks refuse to tell me how to get to "Hollow Bastion". Their reasoning is from some sort of threat by someone or something called a "keyblade". Judging by the "apparent" dread they seem to have for it, it is some sort of weapon that can destroy Non-Existences. I would like to see this oddly-named weapon..._

_I suppose I could do a series of trial and error for such long-range teleportation, but the better part of common sense suggests not to do something so drastic. For all I know the portals of darkness could take me to a place with no return, and that would be rather...undesired._

_As a change of subject and from curiosity getting the better of me once again, I have asked the Dusks to show me who this 'princess' of theirs is._

_Such an unusual girl. She seems different from the others. She is a frail girl garbed in white and is extremely pale. She also appears to be much younger then the others. The dusks regard her as 'no name'. They tell me she is different from the others and myself, even though it is apparent that she is a higher Non-Existent Being. The Dusks reassure me that she is not the owner of the last tombstone and that she is just an odd anomaly._

_Speaking of such a thing, I wonder, who is the true owner of thirteenth stone? Why are there even specifically thirteen in the first place? I doubt all of this was pre-ordained by something as flimsy of a concept such as 'fate'. And this is on too grand of a scale for it to be simply a 'coincidence'. This 'no name' girl only seems to sleep. I have requested that the Dusks relinquish her into my care and they have hesitantly agreed to my demand. I would like to further study this 'anomaly' of a higher Non-Existence. She seems to have originated from Hollow Bastion as well...that world has been reoccurring more often as of late..._

_The Dusks are cheering that the final higher Non-Existent has arrived. I will go to see who is the thirteenth member of our odd organization of higher Non-Existent Ones. I will make sure that the Dusks watch over the 'no name' girl in case she awakens in my brief absence. I cannot have her wandering around through the castle; she would most likely be a distraction for the others in a way different then Larxene..._

_Axel 'found' the new member, Roxas. He seems different from the other members as well; he is more similar to the 'no name' girl. He is easily the youngest in the entire group; he must have had a terribly powerful heart to 'exist' as he does now. I have once again asked the Dusks where he originated; they tell me it is Hollow Bastion. I must figure out a way to reach that world, so many curiosities seem to spawn from there._

----

_Dusks**Princess**Is**So**Precious.  
But**She**Is**Not**Like**Superior.**  
She**Is**A**Mistake.**  
She**Sleeps**So**Much.**_

----

"What exactly was it that you gave me?"  
_Dusks**Treasure.  
Treasure**Was**A**Stray**Heart.  
Dusks**Found**It**In**World**Called**Hollow**Bastion._  
"I would like to visit this world. How do I get there?"  
_No**NO**Superior**Musn't**Go**There!  
Disappear**From**Keyblade.**  
DEATH**DEATH**DEATH!  
Just**Like**The**Heartless.  
Death**By**The**Weapon**Of**The**Worlds.**_

----

"Who is this princess of which you speak?"  
_**No**Name.  
She**Is**Dusks**Princess.**_  
"May I see her?"  
_As**Superior**Wishes._  
"Hm, how interesting. Will you release her into my custody?"  
_**Superior**Should**Not**Trouble**Himself-.**  
No**Name**Is**A**Mistake,**Not**Like**Superior.**_  
"I **_insist_**."  
_As**Superior**Wishes..._

----

"Hey Xemnas-! I found Roxas here, out there."  
"Uh...hello...Xemnas..."  
"He can stay here right?"  
"Of course."

---------------------------------------------  
_**File #6**_

_It has been two days since my last entry. I was able to convince the Dusks to take me to that world, Hollow Bastion. It is a fitting name given its condition. The Dusks were cajoled into taking me to that darkness-filled world under the pretense of possibly finding 'No Name's heart. For some reason, the Dusks do not seem to mind or notice this blatant lie. Maybe the reason the Dusks did not mind is because I promised to bring back a heart... Whichever the reason, I have gained greater access to other worlds._

_The Dusks have been using the Corridors of Darkness, roads set up by the forces of the heartless. These paths can be safely used by Non-Existences because of our lack of hearts. The Darkness does not notice those without a heart it seems. I'm lead to believe that the darkness uses the 'light' shining off the heart to 'see' it, otherwise the darkness is blind I suppose; I say this because I was able to pass by several starved heartless unscathed, and further tested the theory by destroying some, my presence continued unnoticed. An appropriate metaphor would probably be a bat and sound; using what it produces to bounce off its prey and surroundings to seize its quarry..._

_While on Hollow Bastion, I saw so many interesting sights...despite how steeped the world- or better put, the lone castle on that world is- in darkness and heartless, it appears to have retained its "World Heart". -Which brings me to my most interesting point of the excursion, the Keyblade._

_The weapon is quite eccentric, it resembles a giant key...most likely why it is called such a thing. Despite its bizarre appearance, it is a fascinating weapon from what I could briefly observe. The Keyblade has the power to 'free' the hearts stolen by the heartless, as well as destroy their existence. Most troubling is how I have discovered that the Keyblade **does **hold a threat to our group. Even at only partial strength (I have no idea how I know this myself, but I can sense that he is not 'whole'), he is a formidable power to be dealt with...I was even forced to give up the 'extra' heart the Dusks gave me to escape total Non-Existence..._

_However, there is an odd glimmer of "hope" for us. The boy wielding the weapon, he is very similar to Roxas...I have no real evidence, it is more of an instinctual guess, Xigbar would call it a "gut feeling"; but it could be used to my- our advantage. I should try to find out what IS the Keyblade Wielder's name; it may answer some of the new questions. I've come to believe that he and Roxas are somehow connected...and if what I am thinking is true; I may be able to form a countermeasure against the threat of this Keyblade Wielder..._

_I must think on the matter before taking any regrettably irreversible actions..._

----

"Dusks, I must gain access to Hollow Bastion."  
_**Superior **Shouldn't **Trouble **Himself.  
**No **Name **Is **A **Mistake**._  
"How else can I search for her heart?"  
_**Superior **Shouldn't **Trouble **Himself.  
But **Superior** Wants **To** Go **Look** For **Her** Heart!  
Dusks **Must** Please **Superior.**  
...Dusks **Will** Take **Superior** To** Hollow Bastion**._  
"Excellent, we should leave immediately."  
_**Superior** Must **Know.  
Superior** Will **Not** Be **Harmed** By** Darkness.**  
But **Superior **Must** Run **From** Keyblade.**  
Keyblade **Will** Kill **Superior**.  
**Even** Though **Superior** Is **Blessed** By **Power Over Nothing.**_

----

"Who are you?"  
"Ah...it seems you are special too."  
"Ansem?"  
"That's a familiar sound...You look like him."  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"Which means, you are not complete. Incomplete one..."  
"...?"  
"That power...Allow me to test your power."

----

"...Truly fascinating. This is going to be enjoyable."  
"What're you talking about?"  
"In your present state, you cannot possibly understand. In any case, the time we meet again will doubtless come."  
"Wait, who are you-?"  
"I am...a mere shell."

---------------------------------------------  
The Present and Unwritten Entry (Xemnas' POV)

Xemnas sat at his ivory desk, hands folded together and brows drawn deeply in thought. In the uppermost corner of his desk lay his ebony book with the emblazoned numeral I on the cover. He eyed the book skeptically out of the corner of his vision. He had just "distributed" twelve similar books to the others. But unlike his, their thoughts wouldn't be much of a "secret". Maybe it was some sort of unfounded hint of guilt that he felt that was causing such a delay in his actions-.

The corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily. Non-Existences didn't have feelings. He was beginning to regress like one of the neophytes who needlessly clung onto the feeble hope of emotions; no, even some of the older ones still held onto the idea of possessing emotions, even if they didn't voice it. Instinctive greed to protect fake emotions built from memory fragments. Even if they were thoughts produced and written from fake emotions, it was all being spied upon by real betrayal. Some 'great' leader he was- no he was doing it for the sake of monitoring their stability.

In Xemnas' grand plan to survive against the Keyblade he decided it was best for the other twelve to gain their "powers" as well. And if his theory proved correct, one of them would have powers that mimicked those of the Keyblade; maybe even surpass it given the current wielder's...incomplete condition. If that much were to happen, then he could possibly get that member to harvest hearts for them to use... It was only a matter of time before the Keyblade Wielder found his way to their world after all.

Quietly sighing to himself, Xemnas summoned up the ever-obedient Dusks with a loose flick of his hand. He would be needing their help to maintain whatever trust the others had in him, as well as the tiny scraps of 'order' that were in the castle. The creatures formed themselves into existence in his room and silently swayed as they waited for their master's orders.

With some effort he got out of his seat and held up his book in the air. With another flick of his wrist, several sets of handwriting in different colors and legibility sprung out of his book and ran along in the air as if it had gained the ability to write. None of the frenzied words that traveled through the air were his. Each row of words sped through their literary bulk while others paused before resuming their normal speed. Xemnas himself barely skimmed over the words, there were enough thoughts swarming in his mind as it was.

Eventually all of the sentences came to a stop with twelve different variations of "I'm going to sleep". Satisfied with the conclusion to the flurry of words, he dispelled them and motioned for another image to emerge from his book. Several transparent levels of the castle formed itself before him as well as thirteen numerals scattered along the replica hallways. He cast a glance at the once-again sleeping 'no name' curled up on his bed. She had inadvertently reminded him of something important about the 'game' he was about to play...

With a steady hand he "pressed" each of the respective doors in front of each numeral and the transparent representation turned red. It would be much safer if each member was kept solitary from the others...Unlocked doors were an invitation for chaos.

With all of the doors locked, he dropped his hand to his side, but still surveyed the map of the castle. "Do you understand your orders Dusks?" He muttered the question with his back still facing them, but they nodding with understanding. He dismissed them with a half-wave and they disappeared from the room. All he could do now was wait and see how the game turned out.

---------------------------------------------  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Uh...it's Xemnas. Oh man, so many problems, so much text and so litte beta! Next chapter will be a 'rewind' that tells you the 'arrival' of each of the members, and then onto the "GAME". So much text...so unorganized...

As a lame clear-up, the 'quotes' following each entry are the conversations that took place. I honestly have no idea how to incoperate them smootly into the entries, and ALL of those events really don't need to be elaborated on... Who 'no name' is should be fairly obvious.


	9. Extra: REWIND

Those Trivial Recollections

Extra Chapter: Rewind

---------------------------------------------  
_**The First Impure Mind**_

X----- stood within the mass of metal that was the basement lab. Radiant Garden was crumbling from the sheer force of the darkness that was suffocating the once peaceful world. There were screams of fear and death coming from all directions. But it didn't matter to him.

It was...a success...for a split second. He was left dazed by the overwhelming euphoria of something so magnificent succeeding that he no longer recognized how hopelessly the following backlash of failure was consuming the world.

Black creatures with empty eyes of yellow were swarming over the land like a plague- devastating all that they touched with their claws. The sky had split into a void of black; the ground broke open like great earthen maws of darkness. More of the creatures were raining down from the sky and crawling up from the depths of what was most likely hell.

X----- took no notice. He continued to look upon the pulsating darkness that surrounded his machine. The machine that spawned the darkness. Darkness that began to wrap itself around him.

He remained motionless as it crawled up his standing body.

He gave a final laugh as the tendrils encased him completely.

_'I beat you.'_

It was his last thought as he disappeared into the ground.

X----- awoke to find himself facedown on a cold and metal floor. He pushed himself up painfully and looked around only to find that he was alone.

He suddenly began to search over his body. Having not found any of the marks he was looking for, he placed a steady hand over his chest.

There was nothing. He knew what he had become from studying the theories of his teacher- what was that man's name again?

_'No heart. Non-Existent Ones don't have one.'_

He was on the other side this time.

_'You don't have a heart anymore Xemnas.'_

The name echoed in his thoughts. He felt it wasn't his name, but he couldn't recall the reason _why _it wasn't.

He didn't seem to mind after thinking on it though.

The name suited him perfectly.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Second Broken Bullet**_

The structure was going to give out soon and X----- knew it. He was running down the halls, occasionally clipping the corner of a wall that came up too fast. The right side of his face was bleeding profusely. The lack of depth perception as well as the right half of his vision was beginning to have its toll on him.

-It was suiting payback for all that he and his colleagues did to meddle with the forces of darkness.

A clawed hand sprouted out of the wall and cut deeply into his face. What was with those things and attacking his face? He kept on running. Solely adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay. More dark limbs were beginning to sprout out of the walls, all more desperate to grab at him then that last.

He took a turn to what he remembered was an exit. There was the outside. X----- began to sprint as hard as could...15 feet away...10... The upper levels crashed down in front of the door. His feet screeched to a halt, he forced himself to turn around. All he saw were corridors steeped in writhing black limbs.

He held up the gun he had been carrying with him and aimed it at the darkness.

_Click._ No bullets in the chamber.

_'Typical.'_ He laughed under his breath. _'No use regretting it right?'_

The darkness leapt at him and swallowed him.

X----- cracked open his eye hesitantly. He was on his back on an unfamiliar and relatively frigid floor, staring up at a foreign starry sky. He heard footsteps approaching him, but he didn't feel like turning to them.

The steps stopped next to him, and the person knelt down to his side.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see a man with grey hair and tanned skin. He felt like he knew this person, but their identity seemed to escape his mental grasp.

The voice was quiet, "What is your name," it asked.

X-----'s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

He opened his mouth, at first no words came out. "...Xigbar." He said each sound slowly, it was the first time he had said it.

Despite the feeling, deep down he knew the name was his.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Third Crooked Windmill **_

The wind was whipping at his face wildly from all directions. He had managed to reach the roof of the highest building in all of Radiant Garden. He should have expected that he would be trapped there, but he ran up anyway. His cowardice had made him weak; it had made him irrational.

X----- supposed it was the consequences for making such a mistake, to be surrounded by these alien creatures, forced into a corner and defenseless. He looked down at the pipe that was in his hand.

Despite having a weapon, it did him little good; it had proved to be essentially ineffective against his assailants. Who were now twitching in excited anticipation around him. The circle was closing ever smaller around him, like a pack moving in for the kill. One made a lunge at his leg and he luckily dodged. It ran off the edge and off the building, hurtling towards the ground below.

That one was surely dead from falling at such a height. X----- debated whether or not he should follow it. He _was _going to die either way.

He peered over the edge again. Suicide, or death by the hands of these monsters. It was a difficult choice.

He made his choice too late. One had already latched onto his torso, the others were grabbing onto him and dragging him down into a pit of rising shadows. He beat at them wildly, staving off some but not the majority.

_'See what happens when you let emotion rule your actions? You pay the price.'_ The voice in his head chanted. He stopped struggling against them. The pipe clattered to the ground.

In the next life, he wasn't going to make the same mistake.

Death seemed rather calm as he regained consciousness. He took a chance to see what the afterlife looked like as he opened his eyes. His vision was greeted by a dark sky filled with stars. He struggled to sit up. He looked at his hands and flexed them to test how tangible the experience he felt was. A voice called out to him, "Hey!" Running footsteps. A man with black hair streaked with white stood above him.

"Name's Xigbar." He held out his hand. X----- stared at it before taking it. Xigbar pulled him up to his feet.

"What's yours," he asked. X----- dusted himself off before responding.

"Xaldin," he answered without hesitation.

Xigbar laughed and slapped him on the back.

"Welcome to the club."

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Fourth Shattered Glacier**_

Various vials and beakers clanked together in the box as --x-- dashed down the halls. It was oddly quiet, but it didn't concern him. He was going to be late to the lab activity if he didn't hurry.

He finally arrived at the door. He held the box as if it were a baby even though he panted heavily to catch his breath. With a shaky hand he grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

He was met with a dark room. He gave an irritated groan and groped around the interior of the doorframe for the light switch. Having found it, he clicked it on.

The room was empty. --x-- was puzzled, there was usually at least _someone _here or at least in the conjoining storage room. Had the experiment been rescheduled without him being notified?

He frowned bitterly at the thought of being ignored by his peers. With a forlorn sigh he stepped in, closing the door behind him and setting his box of containers down on the nearest lab table.

He ran a hand through his now tousled and sweat-dampened hair to smooth it out. With a click of his tongue he noticed how dry his mouth felt. His eyes immediately fell on what appeared to be a cooler in the back of the room.

Upon opening it he discovered that the box was full of assorted drinks. All of them appeared to be sodas of one flavor or another. After inspecting each of their dietary labels carefully and comparing artificial flavorings, he settled on drinking one that claimed to taste like _'mountain mist with a hint of lime'_.

He cringed at how sugary and frozen it tasted on his tongue. At least his thirst was satisfied. He finished the bottle and tossed it into the appropriate waste bin. Without a second thought he began to unpack his experiment. He was going to proceed whether his fellow researchers were present or not.

After carefully transferring the last vial onto the table he heard a distinct _clink _from the trashcan. --x-- spared it an inquisitive look before resuming his equipment's setup.

_CLINK._

--x-- was becoming irritated by the persistent sound. It was probably some escaped lab rat that was running around in the trashcan. He glared into the trashcan.

A pair of yellow ones stared back at him.

He gave a loud yell as the creature latched onto his face. He crashed backwards onto the floor from the sudden force and additional weight. He clawed at the infernal thing, he couldn't breathe...

--x-- woke up with a jolt and startled yelp. He soon regretted the action as aches ran over his body. He hugged his shoulders to try and ease the soreness.

The pain distracted him so much that he didn't even notice how a man was now standing over him.

"I see more are arriving...what would your name be," the voice half-mused and muttered.

--x-- turned his head to face the voice, the pain suddenly not affecting him as much.

"It's Vexen." The response was automatic, it felt awkward to say, but his mind confirmed it was correct. "-And who might you be?" Vexen attempted to get off the floor but his joints refused to support his weight.

The man sighed, "Xaldin." He placed his hands on Vexen's shoulders and hoisted him up to a standing position.

The blond's knees were still too unsteady to support him so he leaned on Xaldin's arm to walk. The black-haired man patiently led him towards a massive building of white and grey.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Fifth Cracked Boulder**_

He had managed to gather them all up into a group, or at least what people were left that could be considered survivors. Chaos was everywhere; it was only a matter of time before more would be lost to it. They all watched from a rocky plateau as darkness engulfed what was once Radiant Garden.

Behind him he heard some of them sobbing for loved ones. He wanted to mourn those he lost as well, but now was not the time nor did he have any right. He was part of the reason such an event transpired... Keeping himself as calm as possible --x---- turned to face them and tried to direct them to a possible means of escape. These people were never meant to be involved, the least he could do was give them hope, even if it was nothing more than a lie.

"If we can make it to the launch pad we might be able to seek refuge on--" his sentence was interrupted as a gnarled claw of pitch black reached up and snatched a young woman from the group. She screamed as she was dragged under, her cries being cut off abruptly as she disappeared.

The others panicked and were soon snatched up by the claws as well. They all died in similar ways, the only differences being that some sobbed while others shrieked for mercy from God. --x---- tried to save them, but they all slipped out of his grasp in the end. The last one's hand sunk into the ground, he stared sadly at where it disappeared.

He was the only one left.

Shadowy talons emerged from the ground, in his rage he tried to pull the dammed things out. He managed to break off one of the arms. The shriveling stump went slack before shaking violently and splitting into two. He continued to tear at the wretched claws. With each arm tore out, more took its place. Soon a swirling mass of grabbing arms was all that surrounded him.

They latched onto his arms and legs. He struggled with all his strength against them but to no avail. He let out a anguished scream as he was dragged beneath the surface.

He found himself in an immensely different place. He got up unsteadily on his feet, legs nearly buckling as he tried to take a step forward. His vision was blurry. He blinked as he tried to readjust his sight.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced down to the blond man who was next to him.

The blond man cleared his throat and gave a small bow before speaking, "Welcome. Please refer to me as Vexen." He took steps forward and waved his hand behind him for --x---- to accompany him. "Follow me, all will be explained- ah yes, what was your name?" He glanced back to the newcomer.

"Lexaeus."

"Right then, Lexaeus, follow me. We have much to discuss with the others."

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Sixth Corroded Darkness**_

--x--- thought that a change of routine would have brought about interesting results. Instead of going to the Chemistry Labs, he decided to visit the Heart Labs. He had been cheerfully walking down the halls, clipboard in hand, pencil all too eager to write down data. He was so lucky compared to the others. He had been the youngest researcher to ever become apprenticed to Radiant Garden's majesty.

He was infinitely proud of the fact and rarely hid it.

But today was the day he sincerely regretting being called a prodigy. Even more that he was partly responsible for it. Something went terribly astray in the labs. He had abandoned his fellow scientist, whom he had tried to snap out of whatever trance the older man was trapped in. Ultimately, the man refused to move. --x--- had done what he could to save his friend's life; his own survival came at a slightly higher priority. If the man wanted to die he wasn't going to stop him.

He was sprinting down the halls as fast as he could, barely keeping ahead of the creatures that hungered after his heart. Turning the corner, he finally arrived at the room where he could possibly find sanctuary. He hastily punched in the numbers on the pad. The door opened and he threw himself inside.

In his hysteria he crashed into the control panel before being able to input a command. The doors shut tightly and the lights brightened to an almost blinding intensity.

The darkness gave a dying cry as the light incinerated it. With a relieved sigh --x--- slid down to the floor and tried to catch his breath.

Even his own eyes were closed against how intense the lights were. _'Lets see the bastards try and get through that.' _ He gave a breathless laugh at the thought.

He placed a hand on his head in relief and to wipe away the sweat, but his arm didn't feel like moving. He continued to sit there, thinking a thousand incoherent thoughts. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of the darkness _he _encouraged. He wasn't even supposed to _be _in that room.

He of all people never would have thought that the codes he had broken for the door would one day save him. Even more ironic was how 'accidentally hacking' into the computer in the earlier weeks was what was saving his sorry hide today.

His head slumped to the side; now that the danger was at bay, he was suddenly feeling very tired. He knew he shouldn't have been falling asleep at a moment like that, but his mind had already shut off.

The sound of chittering woke him from his sleep. He clamped his eyes shut; the lights were still on as far as he could tell from the faint glow through his eyelids. The rhythm of the sound was picking up in pace, he heard a crackle and the lights clicking off. He opened an eye to see what was going on only to be blinded as the lights overloaded.

Sounds of shattering glass and the door being ripped open overcame his hearing. --x---- snapped his eyes open as he scrambled to his feet and up to the control panel. The room was completely devoid of light. He blindly typed codes in vain, none of them worked.

In his attempt to escape he tried to run, but something made him trip and he fell onto the shards of the broken bulbs. He could feel the floor becoming slick with his blood. He wanted to get up, but he felt so heavy. He began crawling to where he thought the door was.

He felt the familiar rivets that the door slid into, and looked up.

Golden eyes looked back at him in the darkness.

He tried to let out a scream, but no sound came out. He tried to run but he could not move. All he saw was an abyss filled with yellow orbs that stared emptily at him. He didn't even feel himself sinking into the floor.

The next thing he felt was a slight undulating motion. He opened his eyes painfully, he could only see out of the left one for some reason. Waves of nausea washed over him as he tried to get his bearings. From what he could see, a well-built man with orange-red hair was carrying him on his back. He attempted to speak, but his words seemed to fail him.

The man carrying him seemed to notice that he was awake. "Do you have a name? Mine is Lexaeus."

--x---- searched his tired mind. The only name he seemed to able to come up with was, "Zexion." He was barely able to say it.

A pause. "Go back to sleep. You need it."

The feeling of drowsiness was beginning to overwhelm him again.

He closed his eyes. Lexaeus continued carrying him up the building of twisted steel.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Seventh Imperfect Moon**_

They had thought of him as insane; a man with adequate intelligence but no sanity to back it up. ---x was grinning to himself as he drove down the road. It was a full moon tonight, and he had been driving for hours; he was on a mission to restore his dignity. In the passenger's seat next to him was a folder, one that represented his metaphorical life or death.

Inside the folder was the data he needed to prove his astronomical theory; that within the shadow of the moon was a second smaller one orbiting it. It was only visible during full moons and at ungodly hours. But he finally had his proof, and that was all that mattered.

Now they had no reason to shun him and his theories. Evidence spoke louder than words, and with the amount he had gathered, it was more than enough to shut his 'colleagues' up for good.

He was going to slap the folder into their smug faces, dance on the graves of their freshly killed pride and then go out for a well deserved steak dinner. He chuckled to himself at the imagery.

An alarming _**BUMP **_snapped him out of his mental revelry. ---x dug his foot into the brakes and the car came to a screeching halt. He jumped out of the car, flashlight in hand. _'That had better been a speed bump'_ he thought to himself. He pointed the flashlight towards where he thought he ran over...whatever it was he hit.

There was nothing. He scratched his head in bewilderment.

_'Maybe I should take a power-nap...__**NO.**__ I have a MISSION.' _Having concluded his own debate, he made his way back to the car and resumed his driving.

The trip remained uneventful; the moon had hidden behind a cloud as the night wore on. He was rapidly approaching his destination, _'20 miles - Observatory'_ a recent sign had told him. _ 'Smooth sailing from here- __**OH SHI-!**_

He veered off the road to avoid a biker who was driving on the wrong side of the street. The action resulted in his car ramming itself into a tree. ---x cursed about how next time he would _'just mow down the idiot'_ into the deployed airbag.

He picked up his folder, flashlight and valuables before proceeding to walk down the road. Hopefully he would run into a phone booth or a kind driver who would let him hitchhike.

Some time later he was beginning to brood about how _'if I ever find that damn biker, I'll flay him alive for this'_. He heard a branch snap; he dismissed it as the local wildlife just minding its own business.

He began to panic when he felt something breathing down his neck. He turned around and came face to face with what seemed like small glowing bulbs attached to a blob of pulsating ink. He swatted at it out of reflex. His hand seemed to go straight through it.

---x gave a yell before making a break for the road. The thing tackled him to the ground. The flashlight and folder were knocked out of his hands.

He reached out desperately for anything that could possibly help him; the thing that was attacking him seemed to be reaching into his organs and clenching them. ---x his breaths came out as labored gasps, he felt the life being squeezed out of him.

He was pulling himself towards where the folder and flashlight had landed, his attacker seemed to notice the action and grabbed onto his face with its icy nails and dug them in deeply. He wretched his face out of its' grasp with a sickening tear. He ignored the blood streaming down his face and frantically snatched at whatever was in front of him. His fingers brushed against the folder's edge.

The creature found whatever it was searching for and with a sharp twist wretched it out of his body.

---x froze and his body went limp, hand still outstretched to the collection of papers. His body disappeared in a wisp of darkness as did the creature. The moon reappeared from behind the clouds and shone palely down on the folder and flashlight left on the road.

Xemnas had been exploring the castle at the time when he first saw a blue haired man form out of nothing. He had seen it happen before, so it didn't surprise him anymore. The newly formed man's hand was extended in front of him, as though trying to reach desperately at something.

The blue haired man remained motionless as Xemnas stepped towards him. He knelt done to his side and attempted to determine if he was alive. But before he could even touch him, a moan came from the body.

"So you're alive after all." Xemnas mused aloud.

The blue haired man continued groping in front of him at something invisible. "Where is it..?" a dry whisper of a question.

"Where is _what_?"

He stopped grabbing at the air and slowly craned his head up at Xemnas, "-Who are you?"

"I _know _that I'm Xemnas, do you know who _you _are?"

"I think I'm Saix."

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Eighth Expired Candle**_

Some dare that turned out to be. One second she was telling the other girl she would be too scared and the next she was being dared herself to go into the 'spooky forest'. Now he was the one with his hand holding hers as he toted her back to the cabins. She was shivering in silent fear against him, her hand wrapped around his for dear life. He laughed.

-x-- never quite understood why some of the kids acted like this. Pretending to be tough only to shrink down into a ball of childish fear as soon as it was dark. Then again, they _were _children.

He was using a crude torch made out of a dead branch and oily cloth as a light through the forest due to the urgency of her crying. The girl currently clinging to him like a barnacle was the one he had _especially _told _not _to wander into the forest after dark. So much for that advice. Kids never wanted to listen to their elders it seemed. Or at least not to the camp counselors; himself being one of those counselors despite his young age.

-x-- never liked being thought of as one of the 'authority' figures and he often forgot it; he was rarely as strict or 'authoritative' as he _should _have been. Because of that, some of the other counselors didn't like him. Some would even go so far as to hate him. He could have personally cared less. He was -x--, and whatever people thought of him, he wouldn't bother to change it. The dislike was mutual as far as he knew...

Lights began to appear through the darkened leaves of the forest, the familiar camp torches could be made out from the distance they were at. The girl had calmed down considerably at the sight of the camp. When they finally arrived at her cabin -x-- shooed her inside. She asked him if she could tell him a secret. He kneeled down curiously, kids and their secrets.

She pecked a kiss onto his forehead before sheepishly retreating behind the cabin door.

He blinked at the door and then smiled to himself. Heh, kids.

With an exaggerated yawn, he decided it was time for him to sleep too. Little munchkins would probably be up early in the morning. Summer camps were like that.

-x-- woke up suddenly, his heart racing. The nightmare had been that the camp was under attack. He calmed himself and closed his eyes to get back to sleep. A shrill scream reverberated throughout the camp. He bolted out of bed and out the door. Only grabbing his nearly burnt out torch from earlier on the way out.

Racing to the closest cabin he checked through all the windows, he couldn't see anything. Screams were still ringing in his ears as he tried to break down the door. The screams suddenly stopped. The thick maple door finally crashed open. His eyes darted around frantically.

There appeared to be no one in the cabin.

_'What the hell?'_

He looked under the covers of the closest bed. Nope. He checked the upper bunk. Still no one. He noticed a shivering lump under the cornermost bunk's sheets. He carefully lifted the covers up. The girl from earlier was under them. With a quivering hand she pointed behind him. He immediately swung the torch around and connected with something that let out a snarl.

He had grabbed the girl and was now running through the forest. His shirt was becoming soaked from the girl's tears and his sweat as he ran. He could hear the snarls of whatever was following them getting louder and louder. Soon it sounded like it was right next to his ear.

He looked down to where the girl had been. A mass of shadows looked up at him with golden eyes. It seemed to reach into him and pull out something with little effort. The torch he was holding dropped to the ground.

-x--'s crashed to his knees then onto his face. His body disintegrated into the air as the last embers of the torch were snuffed out.

His eyes snapped open and he bolted to his feet from where he lay. A blue haired boy who was sitting down nearby looked up at him from his metal puzzle.

His only visible eye widened curiously, "And you are..?"

Confusion was all over his face, and then it was replaced with a warm smile, "The name's Axel. Nice to meet you." He held out a hand to him. He held it there even though it was painful to stand. The blue haired boy made no move to take it as he got up from his seat on the ground. He had returned his attention back to his metal trinket.

"Right. Well, shall we leave then?" He turned from Axel, fiddling with his puzzle as he began to take slow steps away.

Axel quickly retracted the offered hand and timidly scratched behind his head. "So who are you anyway?" He laughed nervously.

The boy stopped and spoke without facing him. "I am Zexion. The others want to meet you as well, Axel." He continued walking.

"Others?" Axel hop-stepped after the retreating figure of Zexion.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Ninth Contaminated Lake**_

Blue skies, clear water and the freshest air in the world. Nothing was more relaxing to him then a nap in the boat. He scrunched his bucket hat down over his eyes and let the rocking motion of the boat carry him off to sleep.

The days in this world were lazy; ----x loved every second of them. He had come to the lake under the pretense of fishing, but he never cared much for it; yet he always left out a baited rod. Even if he never caught a fish, he was perfectly content with just lolling around on the boat. Peace and quiet, he kept them and they kept him, they were like old friends in that sense.

----x didn't know how many hours he had been napping on the lake, but by the time he woke up it was already the orange-red sky of late afternoon. With a sigh he began to prep the boat to return home.

'Home' was boring in the summer. There was literally nothing for him or his older brother to do, and when his older brother was bored he would usually yell at ----x for no reason. The lake never did that to him, it was the reason why he loved it so much. Year-round the lake always had something to offer him. The lake was alive; the house he lived in was not.

He shoved his hat into his pocket so he could pull up the anchor, his hand brushing past the harmonica already resting inside. That was another thing he loved about the lake. He could play any instrument he wanted as much as he liked. His older brother always said he was terrible at it, and ----x argued that the only way he could get better was with practice. The remark led to rakes and other gardening tools being thrown at him. So he only practiced whenever he was out on the lake; far away from the sharp projectiles and his _evil _sibling.

With his forearm he wiped the sweat off his face after pulling up the anchor. He stepped towards the leaning fishing pole that hung slackly over the side of the boat. _'Hahaha, record still stands at zero fish then.'_ He started to draw in the line with a smile. Interestingly the line didn't seem to _want _to be retracted.

He pouted at the stubborn line and gave it a harder tug. It refused to obey. ----x pulled as hard as he could and nearly fell off the boat as it came loose. A shimmering and black fish he'd never seen before flopped helplessly onto the boat. It struggled violently before suddenly laying perfectly still on the deck.

He looked at it curiously, and neared a poking finger to jab into its side. It hopped up and bit him sharply on the hand. He let out a pained cry and tossed it overboard. He squeezed his hand tightly to get the bleeding to stop; he cast an angry glare to where he had thrown it.

Violent bubbles were beginning to form where it had landed. He took that as a sign to get the hell out of there. With desperate tugs the motor sputtered to life. The boat sped away from the rapidly spawning multitudes of leaping and biting creatures.

The wooden boat zoomed past other empty vessels, ----x didn't get why they were without people... He turned his head to face the raging mass of foam and black teeth trailing his boat. Shore was steadily approaching; he wasn't planning on slowing down when he landed.

Something rammed into the side of the boat with enough force to nearly knock him into the water, he shakily regained his balance. He risked a look over the edge, from what he could see, a large black creature was swimming alongside the vessel. He took a fearful gulp.

The next time it hit the boat ----x was sent flying through the air and he crashed into the water. His soaked head bobbed above the surface and he began to paddle as fast as he could towards the shore.

A thorny tentacle wrapped itself around his leg and he was dragged under the water. He could see the bubbles of his panicked breath escaping to the surface, the light above filtering down to almost nothing as he stared helplessly up. A stab through the chest and he blacked out.

He lurched forward and gave a dry heave. Through burning coughs he looked around. He wondered how he ended up in the seemingly empty world. He saw someone with blond hair through his watery eyes. He distinctly heard them scoff as they approached him.

"I swear more of you sprouting up each day. What is your name?"

He cough-laughed at how stern the voice sounded. He managed to choke out a reply, "D-Demyx."

Demyx hit his own chest a few times and the coughs finally stopped. "So who are you old man?" He beamed despite the older blond's sour expression to the comment.

"_Old man? _ I am _Vexen_. Now let me offer you a piece of valuable advice. Respect your superiors and know your place BOY." Vexen stabbed a gloved finger sharply into Demyx's chest to stress the last word before stalking off.

Demyx followed the older man with springy steps. "So where are you going Vexen?" he asked cheerfully.

"To my precious labs," came the harsh reply.

The smile grew bigger. "Sounds like fun. Can I come with you?"

Vexen didn't respond and muttered curses to himself.

Demyx continued to smile at Vexen.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Tenth Corrupted Eternity**_

Dinner parties were either entertaining or boring, there was no such thing as a middle ground when it came to classifying it. --x--- stared down at the glass of lukewarm wine in his hand. This was a dinner party that disinterested him **severely**. There was absolutely nothing redeeming about the occasion. He downed the contents of the glass without hesitation and started heading back to the bartender.

The bartender and him were going to become the best of friends during this lackluster 'celebration'.

He wasn't particularly paying attention as he was walking; now he was wishing he had. He took a small step back from the soft impact; his tuxedo was beginning to feel rather soaked. The smell of alcohol wafted up to his nostrils.

"OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY!" A young lady was beginning to wildly scrub at the wine stain. --x--- would have rolled his eyes at the foolish woman if she wasn't so pleasantly endowed...and pathetic.

He caught her scrubbing hand and clasped it tenderly in his own. "No need to dirty your delicate hands my lady," he added a gentle kiss on her hand for effect. Now his poor tuxedo wouldn't have to suffer further from her appalling attempt at 'cleaning'.

The young woman blushed a deep red as she tried to hide her face behind her other hand. He gave her a practiced 'genuine smile' before giving a small bow and walking off to the gardens. A group of women surrounded the blushing one and began to giggle and gossip ecstatically behind him as he exited the hall. Aristocratic women were so ignorant.

He had wandered into what seemed to have been the center of the garden. Amidst the exotic blossoms and greenery he had found a marble bench located next to an elegant fountain. He had removed his wine stained jacket to reveal a well-sized splotch of red on his white shirt. He was picking out the specks of the napkin that had encrusted onto the outer shirt. It was _**common sense **_that cleaning out a stain did not, at any point involve a paper napkin dabbed in water; however, people like her didn't have much supply of sense for any matter. After the last stiff shred of the paper was picked out, he laid the jacket out on the bench to "dry". As he waited he dug into his pocket for cigarettes.

The box emerged, he extracted a cigarette and the package returned back to his pocket. He knew smoking was terrible for his health, but so was boredom. He chose the lesser of two evils and began to search for his lighter. A rustle of the plants' leaves told him someone was either eloping 'secretly' with someone else or that someone was coming to bother him.

He shoved the unlit cigarette under his jacket and pretended to be admiring the botany of the garden. "I'm extremely sorry about dirtying your shirt-." He wasn't surprised that the woman from earlier would be the one bothering him now. And he had been looking forward to a smoke and lung-cancer filled evening... Unfortunately, he had appearances to keep up. He slipped on a chivalrous mask before facing her. "Do not let it trouble you. It's trivial really," he waved his hand in a dismissed manner. Even though deep down it irked him to no end.

He could see her that bottom lip was beginning to curl pathetically; he really didn't have the patience to deal with the theatrics of the so-called 'civilized upper class'.

The conversation continued for the sake of avoiding the unnecessary waterworks. "Truth be told, I was smitten-," '_If by smitten it meant zoning out due to lack of interest, then I was indeed, __**deeply**__ smitten_.' "-by your unmitigated beauty." He caressed her face with his hand as he spoke the false compliment. _**Beauty?**__ All that is really __**unmitigated **__about you is how inappropriately sized your bosom is.'_

"Really? Oh my..." The 'refined' were easy to manipulate with elaborate words.

"Really. I believe the only way I can express it fully is with a gift- but you must close your eyes while I fetch it. Will you wait for my return my _lovely_ buttercup?"

She shut her eyes and nodded her head energetically. --x--- quietly picked up his belongings and left. He never returned to the garden.

On top of the residence's clock tower, --x--- was perched on the building's overhang and was taking deep drags from his lit cigarette. Steady clouds of acrid smoke blew out of his mouth. The gears of the massive time-keeper moved accordingly behind him. He looked down at the clock face. It was nearly ten at night. His eyes followed the thin third hand that measured seconds run around the clock's face.

It was almost funny how he was attending these events to get away from numbers, and yet here he was, next to the boldest numbers in the city.

He and the clock were similar in that sense. He didn't run on time; that much was true, instead he ran on the social imperfections of others. But he, like the clock seemed to be going around in eternal circles.

He was an affluent man who profited off the greed of people who had been seduced by the allure of instant riches. With numbers, probability, and 'luck' he absorbed other's life-savings into his own bank account. It was admittedly entertaining for a few years, but he quickly grew bored of it. The house always won, and he controlled many houses.

Because of his influence and power, he had been invited to several receptions and he finally had the interest to participate in them. Some of them genuinely amused him, but the majority left him despising the events entirely. Wit ordained how memorable each excursion was, and he was almost always the sole master of wit at each of them.

His life seemed to be running out of things to fill it, unlike the clock that would continue to run whether or not someone was there to ask what time it was.

He began to wonder what lay after life. He thought about what death would be like; was it controlled by fate or was it too dictated by numbers? His life and his career were based around numbers, so why not his death as well-

The clock let out ten reverberating chimes as the hour stuck.

With a quick twisting motion he extinguished the cigarette on the tower's railing. _'So what now?'_

He stretched his arms to regain the feeling in his fingertips. He'd found a place to relax in, but something seemed off now. It was too quiet. The gears had stopped moving.

Portals of swirling jet-black opened up around him. A set of serrated teeth with beady eyes attached snapped through his chest. He slumped into a lifeless pile and his body melted away.

Two people were carrying him from both sides when he opened his eyes again. Both were well-built, one with black braids, the other with jagged orange hair, they were conversing over what sounded like the definition of existence through actions. He tried to shrug this shoulders out of their grasp to walk on his own feet. The two ceased their conversation and set him down without question.

He straightened his sleeves out absent-mindedly, "I am gracious for your assistance gentleman. Would you mind telling me exactly where I am?" He quickly corrected himself and took a courteous bow, "My apologies. I haven't introduced myself have I? I am Luxord. A pleasure to meet you both."

Both of the well-built men stared speechlessly at him. The one with black braids spoke first, "Well Luxord, Lexaeus and I were taking you home."

"Oh? And where would that be? I assure you, nothing is even remotely familiar-" The one named Lexaeus raised up a hand and Luxord immediately ceased speaking.

"I should elaborate on what Xaldin was trying to say. Luxord, everything you may _think _you know and remember, is no longer yours."

The blond man looked disoriented. Lexaeus continued, "It's entirely up to you to believe us or not. This is where _you _belong regardless."

Luxord vaguely recalled wanting for something to change and here it was. He regained his previous composure and donned a casual smirk.

"Tell me, what exactly does this 'home' look like gentlemen?"

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Eleventh Twisted Thorn**_

Scraps of every color of the rainbow were scattered across the floor. -----x-- took a step back to examine the project he had just completed. He had never made something so..._pretty _looking, he'd never made anything for anyone in fact. But here he had taken the time to do something he never imagined doing.

He did it all for her, she meant that much to him.

He proudly picked up the bouquet of flowers, he never liked flowers before, but now he adored them. Whenever he gave her flowers, she would smile so beautifully at him...

He'd been the typical delinquent with an explosively violent disposition; she was his 'correctional officer'. Like some sappy teen flick, he fell for her. He didn't fall for her immediately, it was over several months; but in the end, she had somehow wormed her way into his temperamental heart.

Snapped out of his day-dreams by the beeping of his watch, he realized he was going to be late. He shoved the scissors he'd used to cut the paper into his jacket pocket and cleaned up the cluttered scraps of paper as quickly as he could.

He slowed to a jog as her house came up into view. He had managed to carry the bundle of flowers carefully; each petal remained in perfect condition despite how haphazardly he had run.

He knocked on the blue door. There was no response. He knocked on the door slightly harder. Still no response. He checked his watch again. He was only half an hour early for his normal appointment, and he was the only person ever scheduled on that day of the week. He tried the door knob, it clicked and the door creaked open. It was typical of her to leave the door unlocked when she was home on a Sunday.

Maybe she was listening to music. She did that often.

Content with the logic of his conclusion, he walked past the other rooms and found the lone hall where her room lay at the end. Quickly closing the distance between himself and her room door, he slowly opened it, fully intent on giving her the gift.

Bare bodies entwined with each other, limbs wrapped sinfully together as the two humans meshed into one. -----x-- reeled back in silent horror. He had turned his face away from the image, but it was burned into his mind. His back was touching the wall next to the door of her room, and he leaned against it, his legs suddenly unable to support his weight.

He painfully bit his hand, trying to hold back his hurt and anger. The flowers hung to his side. He was squeezing the bouquet so tightly he was sure its pink petals were wilting off. Flowers...that were meant to be given to her...

She betrayed him. He didn't want to admit it, but she betrayed him and he foolishly fell into her trap of compassion. A repulsive musky smell filled the air. He buried his face into the flowers. He could still hear their moans; he wanted the sounds of their sickening pleasure to stop.

_'Love? What kind of BS was that? She ditched you. It was all just an act. But hey, look on the bright side. You can still get the last laugh if you want. You __**know **__what to do...'_

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the scissors. The flowers fell to the floor, his shoes crushing their petals as he walked over them. _'Love huh? __Hypocritical __whore...'_ He slammed open the door, she looked up at him in terror, her lover just as shocked and reacting angrily. -----x-- silenced him with a stab through the neck with the scissors. The man seized violently as he bled to death.

Red...That was a better color.

She screamed for help. He swung a fist at her face. A loud crack and she landed on the floor. She scooted away from him even though the only way out was through the door behind him.

He stepped over the body of her dead lover. His hands closed securely around her neck. She gave out hollow gasps as she tried to breathe. She beat at him uselessly. She was weak, how could he have been attracted to this woman? He tightened his grip. A final wheeze and her body became limp.

He released his grasp. _'The last laugh.'_ His lips curled into a smirk. He hadn't noticed the terrible pain in his chest up until now; the darkness ripped though him before he disappeared.

He felt something poking into his side, repeatedly. He growled and opened his eyes to see a young man with brown and blond hair happily jabbing a finger into his ribs. He smacked the young man in the face. The young man let out a cry and held his hands where he was hit; eyes watery from the pain. "No need to be a jerk! I seriously thought you were **dead**!"

-----x-- glared at him and snarled, "Keep it up mullet boy and I can make it so **YOU'RE**the dead one."

The young man meeped, then retorted, "Hey, I'm not 'mullet boy', I'm Demyx you know." The previous fear evaporated from him completely, his cheerfulness quickly recovering back onto his face.

Demyx was irritating the hell out of him now, "WELL WHOOP DE FREAKING DOO, I'M MARLUXIA," he forcefully got up to his feet only to collapse from the action.

Demyx laughed and helped Marluxia off the ground. "Don't worry Marly, Demyx is here!"

He wanted very badly to beat the idiotic optimism out of Demyx's bony body, but his limbs refused to respond. Marluxia resigned to seething in silent indignation as Demyx helped him limp-walk towards a metal structure looming in the distance.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Twelfth Crackling Bolt**_

She was the queen. She was a serpent that had more than enough venom; it only made them admire her more.

No one got in her way, absolutely no one. And if they did, there was hell to pay. She could easily outdo anyone at anything. She had a tongue as sharp as a knife and a temper like a storm. She had everything she could ever want. She'd earned all of it, so she was easily entitled to every ounce of respect she got.

Of course, not everyone understood that. Oh no, if the world worked like that, well, it never worked like that, so that possibility never had to be imagined.

But, it never always worked out how ---x--- planned it. Today was the day she was going to beat some sense into the boyfriend of that stupid girl. The girl in question was an idiot who commented on how ---x--- dressed. If she wanted her opinion she would have asked for it. Not that she ever would, that stupid girl was most likely blind based on the way _she _dressed at school.

It was supposed to go down at midnight in front of the closed shop on the old street. No adults. No one else involved. No problems.

Despite how dangerous it may have sound, she had always managed to get through each of these meetings unscathed. The other party...would never be as fortunate.

She arrived early to the front of the shop. It was always amusing to see which ones actually had enough gall to face her. She stood by the rusting lamp post in front of the shop. The damn thing was always flickering.

She shoved a hand into her pocket and played with her knife with her free hand. She always used a knife, more specifically, that _one _knife. It was her lucky one in a sense. It never failed her, and it always aided her. In many ways it was more reliable and helpful then any person she'd known. Best of all, it never questioned her. Why couldn't the people around her be more cooperative like her tools? Ah, but this was how the world worked; it would always be full of idiots...

Her watch gave a shrill beep as the hour struck midnight. She cast searching looks in every direction. Still no sign of that bitch's boyfriend, she was going to wait for another ten minutes, but no more. They needed the sympathy like all of the others did in her opinion. She leaned on the lamp post, eyes scanning for the other person. They would probably try to cheat, they sometimes did that. Then again, that stupid girl probably didn't even HAVE a boyfriend. It wouldn't be a surprise to her...

Ten after midnight. With a soft groan she peeled herself off the lamp post. No show huh? What a waste of time-

The lamp post flicked off. So it finally decided to die. She began to walk down the pitch black street and nearly fell onto the side-walk's concrete.

Something had rammed into her leg.

Brandishing the knife, she squinted futilely against the lack of light, her ears straining to pick up any sound of what could have possibly attacked her.

All she could hear was her own harsh breathing and-

The lamp post's light flickered back on.

A bundle of black swirled under the light, yellow eyes rolled onto its face. Rows of serrated teeth swiveled forward. They seemed to smile at her. All she could do was stare at it. Her feet felt like they were fused to the ground. The lamp's bulb shattered.

A growl and a terrified scream that rang in the darkness. She couldn't recognize who was the girl that was screaming, but it stopped when something sharp painfully twisted itself into her chest.

"Isn't she captivating Marluxia? I never thought such an exquisite young lady could be found in a place like this!" A refined voice, interest underlay it despite the tone.

"What's so interesting about a chick? A DEAD one at that! She doesn't even have a pulse!" A coarse voice, anger brimming at the very edges of it.

_'Dead?'_

"Neither do we! She might be one of us...any bets she is?" The refined voice again, the fascination more apparent.

"...You're on Luxord." The coarse voice calmed itself, the previous hostility dissipating instantly.

---x--- opened her eyes to see two men staring down at her. One had simplistically short hair that was platinum blond, the other a mane of light brown and somewhat pink hair. She instinctively slapped the one closest to her, that being the man with the light brown-pink hair. His face turned to the side from the sheer power behind the blow.

He slowly turned his head back to face her, blue eyes glared into hers. She could literally feel the rage radiating off of him despite his lack of facial expression.

"I told you she was alive Marluxia."

Marluxia turned to face Luxord; once again, his animosity evaporating at the words of the other man.

"Too bad we didn't make any bets on if she would be a bitch or not." She pulled back her hand to slap him again. Luxord caught her arm before she could complete the action and pulled her up onto her feet.

"Now now young Madame, you mustn't act that way. Why don't we dispel that brusqueness of yours by getting better acquainted?" Marluxia rolled his eyes. Luxord made a motion as though to kiss her hand, but she quickly pulled it out of his and slapped it away.

"You can call me Larxene and that's as 'acquainted' as you'll get with me, you bearded scumbag."

He spoke in the same tone despite how wounded his pride was at her remark. "You certainly are a savage rose aren't you? But all the more alluring."

Larxene opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off by Marluxia.

"I'd think she was all thorns Luxord."

The brunette gave her a thin smile before walking away.

Luxord followed him as well as Larxene.

She never knew how much something so simple could disturb her.

---------------------------------------------  
_**The Thirteenth Astray Ego**_

His hands were on something cold. Something that had done unforgivable things. What he now held was something that went against everything he was fighting for.

So why was he now holding it? And more importantly, at himself?

He knew what had to be done...for the sake of everyone else. He knew he would become one of _them_. The things he had been fighting against, those horrible things that destroyed worlds.

He cast a look at the girl's body laying on the stone floor. All for her. All for the sake of the worlds.

His hand was shaking as the tip of the edge hovered over his chest. He felt so afraid. He was sure his friend would have laughed at him. His friend...this weapon had come from his friend.

He took a deep breath before plunging the tip of it into his chest.

A feeling of falling. The sound of tears and laughter. Darkness. No sound. Nothin-

"Hey, you okay?"

Upon opening his eyes, he saw blindingly red hair and an almost skeletal young man bent over him. He gave an intelligent "Hng?" in response.

"Heh. Thought you were dead." He laughed as he ran a hand through his spiked hair.

"I'm Axel, good to see ya." The man gave him a smirk of a smile. It seemed bizarre to see a smile for some reason.

"So new kid, what's your name?" Axel ruffled --x--'s hair playfully. Any harder and he thought it would hurt his head.

"Roxas." It felt painful to say.

---------------------------------------------  
Thirteen of them gathered.

They had all been brought there by something higher then the light or the darkness.

They were caught in between the two existences.

They weren't sad at all, they hadn't died.

They had been liberated of the burdens of being whole.

They were incomplete.

That didn't matter to them.

Their leader told them of a glorious dream.

That dream was about Kingdom Hearts.

They would be able to control what fate took away from them when they obtained it.

They would obtain Kingdom Hearts, no matter what the cost.

They would have their hearts back and so much more.

That is what Xemnas told them.

---------------------------------------------  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hands down that was one of the most scattered chapters ever, that's why its a "necessary extra"; necessary for some of the info, extra because its all past tense and not needed for the story, much. I have a knack for time flow, its like putting a clock in a blender and then trying to put the pieces back together while blindfolded. These are based on MY opinions/ideas about the Organization. The only two that are "canon" enough to be "unchanged" are Xehanort/Xemnas and Sora/Roxas. I will not change the other's stories unless/until there is PROOF from KH2:FM and/or RE:CoM (or in the distant future, KH3). Until then, please tolerate the crack-esque stories of their origins. After all, no one really knows the "truth" except maybe Nomura and the Development/Concept Staff. I BS'd the tie-in of their 'elements' and their personalities; like why Saix is so gosh-darn obsessed with the moon, etc.


	10. Strange Menagerie Part 1

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Eight: Strange Menagerie (part 1)

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_I will find out if they truly stand with me or against me. Even if they all appear to side with me, some loyalties will be stronger than others. I must find those who are willing to do whatever it takes to find our Kingdom Hearts... Even if a man can command the ocean, the tide can still turn._

"Xemnas?"

The tanned man was brought out of his thoughts by a meek voice. Xemnas' face did not change in expression, the only part of him that moved in response were his eyes which were now regarding her. "What is it?"

Having got his pointed attention she averted her gaze back to her feet which were dangling over the edge of the bed. Mumbling even quieter then before, "Why can't I...go outside?" To this, he raised an eyebrow. He let out a sigh and lowered the hand that his chin rested on, "It might not seem like it, but the others are not as...merciful nor sympathetic as me." It wasn't that he had those traits in any greater degree than the others, but the gist would be understood.

"The person next door doesn't seem so bad." She tentatively reasons.

"That may soon change." He folded his hands together and rested his chin on them once again.

"Why would it change?" The girl wrung her hands together nervously in her lap.

The pressed corners of his mouth twitched down. "I am giving them power...and power can corrupt."

"Then why do it?" She continued to stare at the hands in her lap.

A deep sigh. "Some evils are necessary."

Her voice began to tinge with despair. "But why?"

He opened his mouth but paused, his words were caught partway from his thoughts.

"What could be worth it?" 'No name' finally looked up to him, her sad blue eyes locking with his glazed amber ones.

A flash of hesitation passed over his face before reversing back to his passive mask. He slowly got up from his seat at his mute-white desk and stood next to her. She looked up at him and his blank face. He raised a gloved hand in the same way he would summon and banish Dusks; she was expecting for him to send her back and fearfully clamped her eyes shut at the thought.

No banishing feeling came, only a soft pat on her head and an almost inaudible, "You wouldn't understand."

---------------------------------------------  
_Issat how it is, huh? I'd call it pure freaking insanity if I didn't believe it too ya know? Guess being crazy can be contagious._

"My head feels weird..."

Xigbar raised up a hand to his temple in an attempt to press out the odd headache that seemed to be forming. When his hand dropped too fast he snapped open his eye. The usual grey-white ceiling he saw every day greeted him yet again. The man snorted and casually closed his eye again. He had probably slept on his arm too long at some point during the night.

Unable to really slip off to sleep again he began to yawn and stretch out his arms. He froze in his stretches when he abruptly felt his ponytail _swish _into his shoulder blade. Arms still stretched to his sides, he gazed up again at the 'ceiling' only to realize that it was really the _floor_. He laughed curtly at his position, "So _this _is what vertigo feels like!"

He looked down/up to where his feet were securely rooted to the real ceiling. What was interesting was how it felt so _normal _despite how obvious it wasn't. Carefully he tapped his foot on the ceiling, for all he knew, it could break whatever magic was keeping him from splattering his skull onto the floor. Seeing that the action didn't make him plunge hurtfully into the floor, he began to hop up and down to further test the actuality of his breaking of the basic rules of _gravity_.

Xigbar's black boots once again returned back to their station on the ceiling and he chuckled to himself, "I'd bet the others would freak out, wonder how Vexen would take this?" The image of a distressed Vexen pulling out his hair in frustration and then setting fire to a stack of his notes amused Xigbar.

That's when the man finally realized something, "...How do I get down?" He cast a glance towards the upside-down door and made his way towards it, his boots clomping softly on the ceiling as he did. When he arrived at the wall with the door he tried to reach the knob; unfortunately his arms were too short to reach it. Xigbar snorted again at the situation and tried to hop his way up/down to the knob. His gloved fingers barely brushing against the ivory handle each time.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he resigned in temporary defeat 'down' into a sitting position on the ceiling. "Damn ridiculously high ceiling," he cursed to himself. Xigbar glared at the inanimate door as he scoured his mind for possible ways to get _down_.

"I know..." Xigbar smugly whispered to himself. He hopped back onto his feet and swaggered to the wall. Firmly placing his boot on the wall, he began to walk down. Having reached the proper floor and appropriate field of gravity, he flashed a grin at the ceiling. "Take _that _and shove it messed up gravity!" He proudly extended a gloved hand to the door and began to turn the handle only for it to stop and rebelliously click at his desperate half-turns.

He jostled the doorknob helplessly and then gave the door some well placed hits on its frame. His already droopy shoulders sagged even lower and he began to knock his forehead against the door in dismal defeat. "Damn," _thump. _"You," _thump._ "Door," _thump._

Xigbar pried himself off of the door slowly and trotted over to his small desk. He ran a free hand over his face and hair before giving the sealed door another dirty look. His gaze eventually trailed down to the black book sitting on his table. How were they _supposed _to write about _anything _if Xemnas kept on pulling these kinds of tricks? A lazy smile crawled onto his lips as he propped up the book on its covers. He lightly raised his hand up idly above the book.

Closing his ring and pinky fingers, he straightened his index and middle at the book, his thumb still pointing upwards. He tilted his hand down slowly then flicked it upwards from the book, "Bang." He deliberately spoke the word forcefully enough to make the book fall dramatically backwards onto the table. Xigbar smirked and then stowed the 'gun' back to where a holster would have been on his cloak.

Xigbar stared at the book that now laid on his desk. Why had he been compelled to do something so..._cheesy_? Boredom wasn't that strong was it? He scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was probably a leftover habit from his 'other life'.

"Heh, guess my other self was some kinda gun freak eh?" He quickly drew the 'gun' and pointed it at the door that barred him from sweet freedom. "Wonder if he was any good?" Silence. "Wouldn't be surprised if Xemnas knew the answer." Xigbar opened his hand fully and let it fall to his side. Xigbar had a tendency to talk to himself whether he realized it or not. It was probably because silence bugged the crap out of him.

He shrugged to himself and shook his head sternly. "Damn, being in a room all by yourself _really _does make you go crazy. It'd explain Xemnas' craziness for sure."

_**"Superior's mind is functioning perfectly!"**_

Xigbar flinched at the unexpected response. He couldn't tell where the voice was coming from, but it was definitely _not _human. Instinctively he reached down to the area next to his hip and grabbed. His fingers passed through the air and he realized that there was no weapon to defend himself with. A small humanoid blob emerged out of the ground and began to walk twitchingly towards him.

Being weaponless but not foolhardy, Xigbar ran up the wall and stationed himself safely on the ceiling high above the alien creature. He sorely wished he had a real gun instead of his strange ability to alter his gravity. The creature looked up at him with its eyeless face and began to happily wave at him with its flipper-like hands. _**"Freeshooter is blessed with Power over Space!"**_

Xigbar nearly lost his footing on the ceiling at the creature's bizarre claim. _**"Freeshooter should come down! Freeshooter does not have complete control over his power!"**_ The white creature tried to coax him down by gesturing its bound hands at him. Even though it thought it was being persuasive, the gestures only made Xigbar cringe away from it and closer to the ceiling's surface. "What the hell are you talking about?"

_**"Freeshooter could damage himself!"**_ The creature was now jumping up and down, each jump bringing it ever closer to the tightly crouching figure of Xigbar. "Tch, says who? Freakyass talking trash bag..." The creature leapt up, finally latched itself onto his arm and tried to pry him down. _**"Dusk is trying to help master!" **_Xigbar ignored it and began to try to shake it off, "Get off!"

_**"Dusk is trying to help master!" **_ The Dusk held onto his arm for dear nothing. Something in Xigbar's mind snapped and a new weight crackled into his free hand. "GET OFF!" He pointed the tip of it threateningly at the Dusk and it immediately stopped squirming on his arm. The Dusk seemed to gasp in awe at the sight of it rather then properly fear it. _**"Freeshooter is blessed with a magnificent weapon!"**_

"What?" Xigbar suddenly dropped to the ground but stopped himself just in front of where he should have impacted. The Dusk slithered off his arm and cheerfully muttered to itself. Xigbar ignored the Dusk and stood upright on the proper ground to regain his bearings. He looked over the strange grey and purple weapon now in his hand. Pulling the trigger experimentally, the weapon shot a red arrow-like bullet that embedded itself into the wall.

He turned it over in his hands and trailed a finger along the diamond spikes on the bottom. Xigbar looked back to where he had shot the wall, much to his surprise, the bullet nor any marking of it, was there any more. The gunner looked over the weapon and wondered what to do with it now. As if it could sense his thoughts, the gun faded away into the air. Xigbar closed and opened his hand to feel if it was somehow still there.

The Dusk tugged energetically at his other sleeve, _**"Freeshooter has fully awakened. Superior wants to see you now..."**_

Xigbar couldn't help but scoff at the Dusk's statement, "Heh, I guess I could say the same."

Just another trick of yours, eh Xemnas?

---------------------------------------------  
_I guess some wishes can come true! I don't care what the older ones say, I'm happy to have gotten this! Truth is relative to the proof! Argh, oh man...that stuffy science-speak of Vexen's is starting to rub off on me!_

Bright sun, clear skies, crystalline water...wait, who's that person on the sand? Why are they sitting under an umbrella and reading a _book _of all things? What a sad way to spend a day at the beach! They look so familiar, turn their face a little more...who is it-?

_plip! plip! pliiiip!_

Demyx wrinkled his nose uncomfortably and swatted at his face. His eyes cracked open blearily. Why was there water dripping on his face? _plip!_ So cold! The blond strained to sit up from his bed, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. What time was it? He yawned loudly and used a free hand to comb back the unruly strands of his bed head out of his eyes. _plip!_ The drop of water fell into his mouth and he sputtered.

Having lost his last shred of patience, he leaped out of his disheveled bed and glared as angrily as he could at the ceiling. A pulsating and dark blue puddle of water looked back him. Demyx titled his head to the side at the water and it seemed to follow him. Suddenly more curious then angry, he started to move around while still looking at the water. The liquid obediently mimicked and moved along with him.

The blond stopped his movements and stared once again at the water. Wringing his hands in front of him and in a shaky voice he addressed it, "Hello..?" The water responded by dropping down onto the floor and forming itself into a crude copy of Demyx. After fully stabilizing itself, it smiled and waved silently back at him.

His blue eyes widened as far as they could go and he clumsily bolted for the door. Poor Demyx tried to wretch the door open but it refused his pleas. The water doppelganger looked at him and bubbled questioningly behind him. Having failed to force the door open, Demyx crumpled into a defenseless and panting pile on the floor. Slowly he turned around to face the watery clone and gulped loudly at the sight of it.

"You're not gonna kill me or something...right?" He really didn't want to sound so scared, but he couldn't help it. The doppelganger blinked at Demyx and smiled once again. Lifting up a watery hand it happily flashed him the peace sign before flowing towards Demyx to help him up. Demyx couldn't hold back on laughing at it all once his fear had been dispelled. _**"Melodious Nocturne is so talented with his Control over Water!"**_

The Dusk that had spoken formed itself in front of Demyx. Demyx yelped fearfully and jumped up into the arms of his equally startled water clone. _**"Dusk is here to help Melodious Nocturne discover his power!"**_ The Dusk patted Demyx's arm firmly to reassure him, but it's clammy touch only made the shaking blond even more terrified of it. Finally noticing that the contact was making Demyx more uncomfortable, the Dusk stopped and saluted him. _**"Dusk is not here to harm master! Dusk is here to serve master!"**_ Having said that, the Dusk stepped away from Demyx so it could continue to watch him.

Demyx soon got a hold of himself again and let himself down from the supportive arms of his liquid twin. He took a careful seat on the floor and twiddled his thumbs nervously, his water clone following suit. Eventually Demyx worked up the courage to talk to the Dusk. "Why did you call 'Melodious Nocturne'?" The Dusk wiggled thoughtfully where it stood and spoke as if the answer was obvious, _**"That is the name of Number IX as said by the Proof of Existence!"**_

"Oh." Demyx looked down at his hands, and placed them on the floor as if the sight of them suddenly disgusted him. "But, why call me that? Even if it does sound kinda cool..." The second part he muttered to the ground as he traced circles in the floor with his finger. The nearby water clone made jagged swirls on the floor as it tried to copy Demyx.

Once more the Dusk answered without hesitation, _**"Melodious Nocturne is the title Proof of Existence gave your fragment!"**_ Demyx remained silent. After a length of time had passed, the blond let out a deep sigh. Curious and wanting to appease its master, the Dusk tip-toed to Demyx, _**"Is Melodious Nocturne displeased over something?"**_

"Huh? Oh nothing. It's just that...I really wish I could hear what this sounded-" A fountain of water sprang up from the ground and smacked Demyx upside his unsuspecting face. "-like..." He hesitantly finished the sentence and began to rub at his chin to soothe the pain away. He continued to massage his jaw as the water danced in the air to form a more solid shape. He openly gawked at the white and blue instrument that materialized itself before him.

The Dusk stared at the guitarlike object. Demyx tapped his fingers together and internally debated if it was safe for him to touch it. Having gained enough confidence in himself, he reached over and plucked one of its strings. He stared at warily as if he expected it to horribly explode when the note stopped resonating in his room.

Silence ran through the air. He tenderly picked the instrument up and set it down in his lap. Content with the establishment that it was not some nasty trick, Demyx strummed the strings and hummed to himself. The neglected water double sat to the side and watched Demyx patiently. Now feeling envious for the instrument, the clone attempted to conjure up its own.

_**"Even though Melodious Nocturne has awakened, Superior does not need to see Melodious Nocturne. Master is free to do as he pleases until further notice!"**_ The Dusk bowed shakily and disappeared in a sprawl of white thorns.

Demyx ignored the departure of the Dusk and continued to play on the instrument. "It's called a sitar, an instrument that originated in a land that rarely got any rain. Man...talk about irony." The water copy looked up from its attempts to form its own sitar and blinked dumbly at Demyx.

"Dunno how long it's gonna take to really get to know how to play this thing-" Demyx brushed his fingertips over the strings, "-but it'll be fun." He smiled affectionately at the sitar and began to experiment with the sounds it could produce.

---------------------------------------------  
_I hate __symbolism__, it avoids the point. I hate people who try to make me into their puppet, it undermines my worth. I hate flowers, it feels like I'm choking on a bad dream. I hate my element and weapon, it seems so much like a contradiction. I hate liking my power, it reminds me of what my symbol is._

A gloved hand clenched around the doorknob even tighter as he tried to break the lock with the handle. So far it hadn't worked. Marluxia had a feeling it wouldn't be working anytime soon either. He bitterly shoved the notion aside as he stiffened his grip again; he wasn't about to let a simple _door _stop him.

Marluxia gave the knob a violent twist before hesitantly releasing his grasp on it. Reluctantly he strolled back to his chair and sat down. Marluxia slouched heavily down on the desk and tried to think of new ways to break down the annoying door. It didn't help that his room now smelled like an oversized and over-pollinated flower shop. If the door didn't drive him insane the damn _smell _would.

Taking in a sharp breath, he began banging his forehead futilely against the table. "Come on-! Think of something!' He hissed. Seeing as the self-inflicted pain was not helping, he stopped and turned his sight back to the door. Seeing the book on the desk reminded him of the reason why he was probably locked in. He swatted at it and it was flung to the floor. Gradually he sat back up. "..._This _might work."

The brunette stood in front of the door and was holding his white chair like a club at the knob. Giving the door a smug look, he pulled back the chair for a swing.

_**"Graceful Assassin shouldn't do that, he might hurt himself."**_ Marluxia ignored the strange voice, _Graceful Assassin?, _it probably wasn't talking to him then. With a grunt he swung the chair into the door only to be thrown back by the ricochet of metal against _stronger _metal. Marluxia shook his head to get the ringing in his ears to stop. Glancing down to the chair still in his hands he realized all he managed to dent was the before mentioned piece of furniture.

A flower petal floated down in the air and he followed it bemusedly with his eyes. The lone petal came to rest on the floor and Marluxia let the failure of a chair fall to the floor with a clank. With a thin scowl he bent down to pick up the petal and examine it.

There was nothing extraordinary about it, it was _just _a pink flower petal after all. But what was it doing in a place like...wherever the castle was supposed to be? Whatever he thought at the moment was now overridden by strange hate, frowning down at the petal, he crushed it between his fingers. Something he couldn't quite place a reason on made him resent that little piece of a bloom. _**"Graceful Assassin is not pleased with his Power over Nature?"**_

The outlandish voice from earlier was speaking again. It was beginning to irk Marluxia that it seemed to think he was a _'Graceful Assassin'_; if he was going to _assassinate _anyone he wanted it to be as splattered as possible, none of this _graceful _death drivel.

He scoffed irritably and let the crushed petal fall down. Much to his dismay, more petals began to fall out of seemingly nowhere. Peeved by the drizzle of petals he brushed them off himself. The abundant flowers were bothersome but too numerous to really be dealt with. Forfeiting the battle against the shower of pink, he retook up the chair to strike at the door again. When he tried to swing it this time though, something was holding it back.

Marluxia craned his head to the side and saw a flimsy looking creature in white holding the chair back. _**"What can Dusk do to please master?"**_ The brunette began to think of how ridiculous the situation was growing with each passing second. "Heh, think you can break down that door? I just can't seem to do it by my _weak little self_." There was sarcasm dripping off his words, but it was overlooked by the Dusk.

_**"Graceful Assassin can try using his weapon. Weapon is very powerful."**_The Dusk happily bounced where it stood and clapped its padded hands together in anticipation. Feeling cynical and bored, Marluxia decided trying to summon his so-called weapon at least _once _wouldn't hurt anything. Just as long as it killed some time...

Raising a hand in front of him he tried to half-beckon a weapon forth, he felt a bit foolish and lost. What was he supposed to do? What _was _his weapon anyway? There were so many different kinds. Knives, swords, clubs, even bare fists; the list could go on. Looking for a specific type of needle in a pile of needles, _brilliant_. Marluxia had no idea how long or short he was standing there with his arm out, but nothing happened except that more petals were continuing to fall down.

The non-voice of the Dusk was heard again. _**"Master must use his element! Weapon is tied to element! Use the petals master!"**_ Marluxia dropped his arm quickly and rolled his eyes. So his element was _flowers _now? What kind of weapon could come out of _flowers_? Those weak little things that were supposed to mean something so pathetically sentimental on certain holidays? It had to be a joke.

The brunette angrily plucked a falling petal out of the air and brandished it at the Dusk. "So let me get this straight; I'm supposed to be able to pull a weapon out of this _**thing?**_" The Dusk earnestly nodded its faceless head. The audacity of some things. "Right, something I can crush so easily is supposed to be _powerful?_" Marluxia clenched his hand tightly around the petal to prove his point.

A strange well of gravity seemed to form within the hand that he crushed the petal in. Particles of white began to swirl violently around it. By the time what he felt was pulling at his hand was gone, so were the petals that had piled onto his floor. The petal in his hand had disappeared as well; all that remained in its place was a scythe.

He looked at it skeptically then disdainfully. It was a nice, threatening scythe...but it was a horrible pink color. In fact now that he looked it, the scythe appeared to have had its design based off a rather _sharp _flower.

"Why flowers?" He didn't ask it to anyone in particular, but he was at a loss in terms of a possible reason.

_**"Dusk is sorry, Superior is calling..." **_The words were quickly spoken and the Dusk had departed in a speed similar. Marluxia was left standing alone in the room. The more he looked over the scythe the more it really did look like a flower. "What do flowers have to do with me..." His words trailed off as his eyes traveled up the stem-green handle and to the curved pink petal blade at the top. Testing its weight he lifted it up with little effort. Apparently it was lighter then it looked, but sharper then it seemed based on how it cut so easily through the air.

Blue eyes looked up, a pleased smirk began to emerge. That thing did _say _that the weapon could break down the door. Time to test that theory...

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_It seems to have come full circle again. Why darkness, and why me? I'd like to study the matter further, but how? The conditions are different. It's like trying to put together a puzzle, but I don't know what the original looked like. Ah well, it doesn't matter in the long run. Just as long as my puzzle will look like the masterpiece it is supposed to be in the end..._

All he could hear was the sound of his feet on the floor. He didn't know how long he had been walking, but it felt like hours since he'd pried himself out of bed. The second he'd opened his eyes, he couldn't see anything except a blanket of the brightest void he'd ever known. It was bizarre, he felt and knew that his eyes were open, but all he could see was that silent veil of white, it almost hurt to see it like that.

Zexion rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, but the white in his vision was still there. Suddenly, something began to itch quite literally in the back of his eyes. Pressing his palm deeper was all he could do, but the sensation persisted despite his best efforts.

His ears were beginning to ring as well. It felt like the screeching silence was trying to rip off the sides of his face. Zexion bit his bottom lip and realized he could suddenly taste something that hadn't been there before. Something familiar, coppery yet sickeningly acidic and sharp. A new smell seemed to emerge from seemingly out of nowhere. It seemed to pair well with the taste lingering on his tongue.

The blue haired boy had no idea why he felt all of those sensations; they all seemed to hurt so much. Almost like he was being introduced to his senses for the first time. He grappled his skull; it was beginning to feel like it was on fire.

_**"Dusk is sorry that Cloaked Schemer is suffering."**_ Zexion gritted his teeth together at how loud the unknown voice was.

_**"Dusks made terrible mistake...master's place in Proof of Existence has been damaged. Dusks are truly sorry."**_ He could feel the presence of the voice's source, and thought he could sense it bowing in some way. "What is? Why is this happening?" Zexion flinched at the painful volume his own voice was.

He could feel the body the voice belonged to hesitate. _**"Dusks still remembered, so Dusks were worried over master's Power over Darkness."**_ The blue haired boy froze amidst his senses' ailing. Power over Darkness. How familiar.

Like a light switch, everything suddenly poured into familiarity. The white was sucked away and Zexion was met with the sight of his room once again. He felt shaky on his feet with the surge of normalcy. _**"Superior would like to speak with you now that master has awakened."**_

Zexion looked owlishly at the writhing form of the Dusk, then to the strange gravity that he felt growing in front of him. Seconds later a portal of moving black formed itself. The pieces began to slowly fall into place.

Having 'power over darkness' meant being in tune with everything that entailed the darkness; that included the 'emotions' brought about by it. He briefly recalled that 'flavor' was in his mouth earlier. "So that's what fear tastes like..."

The Dusk touched his arm and Zexion's attention was snapped back to the gate swirling in front of him. The blue haired boy stepped into the portal obediently; this 'Superior' probably had all the answers.

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_Six aspects. A round number of representation, what does it all mean? __**Intuition**__; the perception and thoughts of events. __**Self-expression**__; keeping 'true' to speech, both internal and external. __**Devotion**__; loyalty and connection. __**Power**__; to be able to be in control and be ambitious. __**Emotion**__; I suppose it is not really there, but the memories and reactions are... __**Instinct**__; self-preservation and security. It will take concentration to keep them all in balance. Or am I looking into the matter too far? ...I feel as though I am __neglecting __an aspect, which one could it be?_

Xaldin was now sitting cross-legged on the floor. With the door locked indefinitely, he had nothing productive to do but meditate. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and steady, and time was crawling by.

Now that the state of his mind had been stabilized, he cracked open his eyes. The six lances that had been whirling around him earlier had stopped and were now only bobbing harmlessly up and down in the air. Xaldin slowly got to his feet and reached out a cautious hand to the nearest floating spear. When he had first woken up and tried the door, he had let frustration get the better of him; those spears had appeared suddenly when he lost his patience.

With a hand fully wrapped around the length of the spear, the other five closed in, but Xaldin did not flinch. He sensed a strange and almost aura-like feeling that those weapons would do him no harm. With his free hand he grabbed another of the nearby spears. Something about them was sentimental. The darker part of his mind rumbled about recalling the past.

A puffing sound brought the brunette out of his thoughts. His gaze immediately landed on a wriggling and boneless creature. The spears that were not in his hand quickly darted over and surrounded the creature. Each of the points only mere inches from piercing its pale skin. Xaldin squinted his eyes skeptically at the foreign presence.

The creature continued to wriggle idly, any and all fear devoid from its behavior. One of the lances seemed to instinctively draw its sharp tip closer to the creature but flinched back as the white unknown spoke, _**"Dusk is happy Whirlwind Lancer was able to find his weapon...did master discover his Power over Wind as well?"**_

Xaldin edged closer despite how the dark part of his mind hissed against such actions. "You did this?"

The Dusk continued to bob in place like a bottle in the ocean. _**"Superior wanted Dusks to do so...Superior wants to talk to master now." **_A fountain of darkness sprouted next to the Dusk.

Wordlessly, Xaldin dismissed his lances and stepped into it. There was something about what was possibly at the other end of that tunnel that seemed to make him trust it. Even the dark part in the back of his mind had faith in what waited at the end.

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_All of these thoughts lately about doors. I guess I shouldn't be so __surprised __that the solution is a key. It's kind of funny, like a bad pun Axel would probably say when he saw it...he really is the only one left to rely on, isn't he?_

Blue eyes blinked innocently up from his wringing hands. He'd woken up earlier then usual, the silhouette in his dreams had done something so terrifying yet...tragic. The person had apologized for something; Roxas still didn't understand the exact details, but it felt like he should have been mourning for that person. Even though the previous day he'd sworn that person was an enemy that needed to be destroyed.

But at that moment, he felt more at a loss for himself. With the departure of that person, he felt like there was nothing to really anchor him to anything. Another thing that dampened the mood of the 'new' day was how the door was inexplicably locked. Apparently higher powers wouldn't even allow for him to at least try and forget about it by playing yet another pointless game with Axel. The chatty redhead was all Roxas had to lean on in terms of a 'friend' now.

Roxas stopped running his hands over each other. The resolution he'd made from the previous day still stood. 'Live life better, and more positively.' He gave the door a defiant look. "I won't let you stop me."

A strong wind brushed past him and it forced him to shut his eyes. It felt like something had been placed into his hands and lap. He opened his eyes, in his hands laid, quite literally, a gigantic key. Roxas stared at the key quizzically and lifted it up in the air. Maybe he was going crazy.

He made his way to the door and looked from the keyless knob back to the humongous key in his hand. Cynically he raised the key up to the door and a keyhole shone from it. Roxas heard a loud unlocking sound. The door creaked open and a strange smile crawled onto his face.

Maybe losing his mind was a good thing.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part 1 of 2, its just...too long and repetitive to all be mashed up into one chapter. I think you can assume what is narrative and what is 'written' in their books. I am somewhat proud with how these 'turned out', or is that just me and how late it was when these were typed? Hope nothing seems too off, like characterization... Kudos to whoever can figure out the origin of the six aspects Xaldin was prattling about. A cookie to whoever can guess the identity of the 'shadow' Roxas talks about (I tried to make it a little obvious, but not too much). As a side note, sorry for taking so long to put out this chapter...and even moreso that it is not a _complete _chapter.


	11. Strange Menagerie Part 2

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Eight: Strange Menagerie (part 2)

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_The innocence in the __naivety __of youth. Would I be as simple and accepting as 'no name' if I didn't have any memories like her? Would anything change if I didn't know these truths? Or would I be more desperate to fill in more than just the physical void we all share? I am beginning to bear a 'dislike' for these thoughts that are beginning to dwell in my consciousness. I understand that they are merely a history of events that have already happened, but that does not mean they can be shoved so __recklessly __aside. I can only hope that they will not hinder me or my goals in the future. "Plans" are already haphazard as it is._

Xemnas stared ahead as his hand rested upon 'no name's head. "Tell me, have you ever wanted something so desperately in your life, that you would do almost anything to have even a _glimpse _of it?" 'No name' remained silent. Xemnas took a deep breath as he retracted his gloved hand from her head. 'No name' most likely did not recall such a thing; she was a rather young Non-Existence after all.

He resumed his seat and his vigil of the faint replica of the hallways floating in the air. Ideas and fears of the morbid future began to dance in his head as the dimensions of the image flickered in front of him.

"Home." Xemnas looked from the projection to the now visible face of no name. Her sudden response had been strained, almost choked, but her eyes were clear.

All he could do was maintain his empty focus on her. The lithe blonde visibly swallowed her 'fear' and she continued with somewhat renewed confidence, "I've always wanted to go back home. I'd like to see it one last time so I can always remember it."

Xemnas slowly titled his head to the side. 'No name' offered a small, but sincere smile to him. Xemnas tucked his brow into his folded hands and closed his eyes. A low, bitter chuckle began to form in his throat as a distant memory started to surface in his mind. "Home is where the heart is..."

_The voice rumbled with words that flowed of warmth. "Home is where the heart is." He felt a fatherly pat on his shoulder as he turned his gaze to the source of the voice. "It's only natural you wouldn't be happy here so soon after leaving it." The comforting voice chuckled heartily as it gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The source of the voice smiled broadly with matching amber eyes that were filled with understanding. "Thankfully the heart can move as the home does. Only the soul can decide where 'home' really is."_

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_Dear lady Luck decided to let me win a round or two in the game of life. I have new cards up my sleeve despite my already large repertoire of talents. I believe I will never be in need of a deck of cards ever again. It's quite fortunate...I wonder who else I owe great thanks to besides lovely Luck?_

The blond tapped the side of his face thoughtfully from their folded perch over his chest. Luxord had been playing scenarios of desired escape through his head for some time; much to his chagrin, all of them fundamentally failed just as they formed. He needed tools more appropriate than just _ideas _if he ever expected to taste the air outside his quarters.

Luxord turned his head with a wistful sigh, "What do you think is the best way?" The white creature that had visited him twitchingly raised up its hands, _**"Gambler of Fate can do anything! Master is blessed by Proof of Existence!"**_ The blond scoffed downwardly; the poor thing had been repeating itself since its unexplained arrival. It hadn't been hindering him per say, but it had been slowly taxing away at his usually endless well of patience with its repetitive and enigmatic message.

Even though the man prided himself with his uniquely crafted fortitude, at that moment, etiquette seemed quite frivolous to him. The compulsive creature behind him was merely an insult in addition to his injury. Heaving a malcontent sigh, he dug his hands deeply into his pockets; the situation truly was up to his wits to remedy now.

Feeling that his pockets were empty, Luxord recalled another source of irritation. He had nothing to temporarily distract himself with, specifically cards or any other manner of game piece. At a loss for seemingly everything, the blond chanced a hopeful question to the thus unhelpful creature. "You claim I can do 'anything' in theory. Precisely how exactly does one perform such a trick?" Maybe an idea would suddenly reveal itself, or a much needed miracle for that matter.

The pale creature swayed lazily from side to side. _**"Master must use his symbol! Does master recall? Dusk does not know, but Dusk can sense it...Master's Power over Time."**_

Luxord's brows furrowed as he pondered possible interpretations from the new and strange bits of information. A symbol; the most common representation of power was a weapon. Nothing substantial stood out in his mind or from the pieces he could recall from his previous life. For some reason the majority of images he could remember entailed numbers and a pattern of colors that represented various values. He guessed that the title 'Gambler of Fate' most likely tied into it; the numbers were for wagers and the colors a set for categorizing bets.

As for the clue about time, all he could think of were grandiose clocks and timekeepers of various sizes and age. What gambling had to do with time, he could vaguely guess at how the two related to each other. So far the only logical conclusion would be not having enough time to pay back one's debts...

"Are you trying to tell me that my symbol is game pieces and _cards?_" As if a cue had been given, several squares of paper leapt out of nowhere. Luxord took a step back as they assumed their places around him. Between the large and blank faces of the cards he could see the Dusk applauding. _**"Master can do anything!"**_

Luxord raised an amused eyebrow, giving a spirited hand movement the cards rearranged themselves and danced in place before him. The concept of his new 'power' refreshed his composure. With renewed energy he called out to the Dusk, "Care to play a game?" He looked to where the Dusk was, but it was no longer there. He smirked to himself and 'shuffled' the cards for a game of Solitaire. The small creature probably had other affairs to attend to.

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_Con; I have more work to do. Pro; those ignorant pigs won't know what hit them._

Larxene had completed the last touches on her grand plan to exact painful vengeance against Xigbar the previous 'night'. As a reward for her efforts, she indulged in taking a quick nap before going about her quest of revenge. Much to her dismay, when she woke up again and tried the door, she was jolted back from it. Further repeats of the action led to further, unexplained jolts from the doorknob. She shook her hand loosely from the shocks as she glared at the door.

She had taken up the pen from her desk and had jabbed it through the crack of the door in hope of dislodging the 'bolt' with the tip. The notion was ultimately in vain. Just as she heard a click, something crackled back at her and the pen flew out of her hands. Larxene clenched her hands to get the prickling tremors to cease. Just as she was reaching for the pen to try again, she heard an unnatural voice. _**"Master's Power over Thunder is not properly controlled, it is not meant to be used so close to master..."**_

The blonde's hands shifted from their course to the pen and violently latched onto the source of this voice. An impatient snarl escaped from her lips as she slammed it heavily against the door. That was when she first set eyes upon the grotesque form.

In the back of her mind she wanted to break away from the uneasy chills the presence gave her, but she ignored the thoughts for pride's sake. "Who sent you ya little freak of nature?" At no immediate response she dug her fingers deeper into the boneless invader. "_Well?_"

The pinned shell gasped at her with recognition. _**"Savage Nymph is deserving of her title! Proof of Existence does not lie!"**_ Larxene pressed it harder into the door's surface. Nothing was _ever _allowed to call her _anything _except her name. She hissed as she repeated the question, "_Who sent you?_ Come on, which one was it? That one-eyed bastard or one of the other idiots running this circus?"

What she hadn't expected was that the pale thing would push back at her. She nearly lost her footing from its surprising strength. _**"Superior is not an idiot! Superior is Superior! Savage Nymph must understand that!"**_

She growled at the raving blob. Inferior things were _never _supposed to do that. Larxene immediately grabbed at the slithering form but it shifted out of the way by leaping over her lunging hands. The blonde stumbled ungracefully as she crashed into the door. Ignoring the new bruise, she let out an infuriated yell as it continued to weave away from her.

Larxene heard the distant crackling sound again. Mentally she cursed at it and screamed for it to obey her and not strike back at her. All she heard was the sound of something breaking as harsh shards of energy ripped through the Dusk's body. The tatters feebly tried to stand up as the ringing subsided. Larxene firmly planted her boot onto it and twisted the heel sharply. It let out a gush of air as the rest of its body fell to the floor.

The blond sighed as the minced dregs began to evaporate. She carefully removed her foot and noticed a small knife amongst the pieces. Interested in the strange yellow blade, she picked it up.

There was something about it that reminded her of her 'parallel' self that was a queen. Larxene wrapped her fingers around the thrice-pronged handle lovingly. "My, my...aren't you a pretty little thing?"

Her eyes glinted with new and twisted thoughts as she returned her gaze to the red diagrams that adorned her room. She had some quick changes to make on her plans.

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_It goes against common principles and rules, but only the rules of one world. Thankfully, the 'universal' rules are still in effect. But this does not change the fact that I have many projects that are in dire need of data collection. Perhaps a more intelligent version of the 'Dusks' would be most beneficial to such a task... Maybe I can beseech one of the others for their aid; Zexion has shown some interest in the matter. I must also acquire a better habit in terms of paper __availability __for recording observations... Ah, a scientist's work is never done._

"This outer structure is fascinating!" Vexen prodded the airy shell of the Dusk before scribbling down more observations. The Dusk patiently waited for the gauntly structured man to finish his writing before speaking. It would have been 'rude' of it to interrupt the researcher's activities.

Vexen had not been afraid or aggravated by the arrival of the foreign presence. He'd been _enthralled _over its discovery; just imagine, a new species! Like a boy who'd just found his first frog under a rock, he wanted to keep the eccentric thing in a box and study it for hours on end. Perhaps even dissect it if he could find more of them. Vexen's pen ran off the small paper mid-word and his eyebrows wrinkled at his disquieting situation.

Green eyes lingered on his black book with the temptation of continuing his notes there, but rationality forbade it. Personal affairs were to be kept separate from scientific ones, even one as monumental as the thing standing before him. Mentally he debated the weight of the two in terms of importance. That was when the Dusk decided it was an opportune moment to speak, _**"Master's title, Chilly Academic, is not false! Superior will be most pleased."**_

The blond's eyes widened. "It possesses enough capacity for speech and at a much more complex degree than mere mimicry- albeit somewhat awkward phrasing...amazing." The scientist was now out of his seat and pacing the room as he continued his muttered musings of the 'discovery'. Despite the Dusk's formality, something internal seemed to click inside of its mind. Time couldn't be wasted.

_**"Does Chilly Academic have control of his ability? Dusk has been told it is Power over Ice..." **_ Vexen's boots halted, now that he thought about it, the air felt like it was chillier than normal. He looked down to the Dusk and snorted, "Power over Ice? Not without the appropriate chemicals or equipment." The only way he could 'control ice' without outside help was if he had _suddenly _grown a better affinity with magic. It went without saying he'd never done well with such an unpredictable thing.

_**"No, no. Master should try! Proof of Existence does not go back on gifts!"**_ Something about the way the Dusk had asked, even if it was technically toneless, seemed to convince Vexen into attempting such a feat. Mentally he chastised himself but he rationalized it as another experiment.

The blonde had picked up a spare vial from his desk. He briefly focused on it with as many images of cold as he could. Subconsciously, he recalled having tried such tasks before and that they were unsuccessful. Unlike those memories of failure however, the tube became incased in a crystalline shell. He skeptically looked over the now frozen container; his eyes were not deceiving him.

His thoughts about the icy glass were replaced with new ones as a shadowy threshold appeared. _**"Dusk is sorry, master must hurry. Superior needs your presence." **_The scientist peered at the dark gate, it didn't appear stable. He turned to ask the alien creature more questions, but it dove past him and into the portal.

Before he knew it and against his better judgment, he found himself jumping in after it. He couldn't just let so _many _questions run away without _more_ substantial answers.

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_Secrets are best not told. Secrets are better written if they want to be 'heard'. My secret is that I want to remember 'that' feeling. I can almost see 'her' when I am in 'that' state. I don't know if anyone should know about 'it'... If anyone knew the secret, would it be a secret anymore? What happens if the person who knows a secret disappears, does it become a secret again? Or does the person who disappears become a secret as well? ...Maybe 'she' would know the answer. I should find 'her' as soon as possible. Then I wouldn't have to tell 'them' that secret._

Saix's hands were pressed up against the glass that faced his balcony. He'd didn't care to know the reason why the windows were locked, all he knew was that his telescope was on the other side. Internally he wanted to tear apart the barrier that separated him from his viewer, but he could not find the strength to do so.

He pressed his forehead against the window in defeat. Why had he been compelled to leave his poor telescope alone, even for a few moments? He wanted to see his pale idol when she revealed herself. Hopefully the torture would be brief and the locks would undo themselves. All he could do was wait.

The blue haired man looked up from his internal dialogue. His yellow eyes widened fearfully when he saw that his telescope was no longer perched on the balcony outside. Savagely he began to beat at the obstruction in front of him. Where had it gone? Whatever had taken it obviously had a swift appointment with death.

Despite his violent efforts, the glass and metal held against his blows. Closed hands came to rest on the resilient glass only to slide slowly down. Saix knew he should have been despairing over it, one of his few remaining 'treasures', but it was just a hollow sensation. Bitterly, he was almost grateful for how little he truly felt.

He heard an almost sacred clank behind him and he saw his beloved telescope. Next to it was a petite and white entity. Saix greedily stole the telescope back from the visiter. He didn't care much for the methods by which it had been returned, all that 'mattered' was that it had been returned.

Having been reunited with one of his few worldly possessions, the inquiry for the reason why it had been returned slowly presented itself to his mind. Before he could properly ask, it spoke eerily. _**"Is Luna Diviner pleased? Dusk was unsure about letting master see it one more time...but now Dusk must tell you something of great importance. Master must try to understand."**_

Saix continued to stare at it, the Dusk took it as a sign to continue, _**"Dusk must...return that to Superior, it belongs to Superior. Luna Diviner is not the Superior..." **_The pale servant moved towards the telescope Saix was clinging onto. The blue haired man shied away from its groping hands. _He _had found the instrument himself, not this _'Superior'_. _**"Dusk is sorry, but master took it without asking. Dusk must return it immediately."**_

Pale paws wrapped around one of the telescope's legs and it violently wretched at it from Saix's grasp. Why was something he had grown so fond of being taken from him yet again? Something dark stirred on the edges of his thoughts. _'It doesn't have to be like this and you know it.'_ Saix felt a flash of blinding pain and the telescope slipped out of his hands. _'Tsk, tsk. Don't you want to keep what's yours?'_ He tried to grab back the telescope and his hand barely caught the very end of the stand. _'Come on, you can indulge in 'it'__a little, no one has to know.'_

An intoxicating warmth wrapped itself around Saix. '_I promise I'll keep it my little secret.'_

Unnatural shrieks elicited from the otherworldly visitor. Screams that he heard but held no interest in. The way its skin ripped so easily was like fascinating wrapping paper. He wanted to know what was under that delicate layer. It was like a gift, but the sender was unknown. Perhaps the contents of the present would give him a clue. Another sizeable chuck came off, the sweet sounds of what composed it being torn asunder were so nice to his ears.

The mutilated pile was silent now, but he still tore at it. There was nothing in it, but what had allowed it to take such a shape, or even move, in the first place? Maybe he was missing something important. The lacerated parts were beginning to disappear. Where _was _what he was so madly looking for?

The remaining pale shreds in his hands melted away. The exhilaration of the unknown heat left him. He would have outwardly shivered if his control over his 'emotions' weren't as strong. All thoughts were dismissed as steady hands reached for the telescope that laid on the floor.

Some part of him missed the sensation he experienced as he ripped through the creature. The other part of him was more preoccupied with setting up his telescope again. He paid no heed to the whispering voices. _**"Luna Diviner is-" "Dusk mustn't say that." "Dusks should report to Superior." "What about the Superior's object?" "Master is powerful, even without his Power over the-" "Dusk mustn't say that, Luna Diviner's mind is not-" "Dusks must report this to Superior..."**_

Saix's ears were met with the still silence once again. He peered through the viewer and saw nothing but fragmented images. Apparently in the chaos of retrieving it, the lens had cracked. The blue haired man let out a sigh and began to gently fold up the telescopes legs. "If only I could find you."

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_It may seem aesthetically selfish, but I should try to add some earthly additions to this barren land. It may boost the __morale __of the others. I know it would provide a great comfort to me. The only question is how. The 'Dusk' said that I had the power to do so, but how? Do I 'wish' for it or 'will' for it? Or does the darkness do it for me? Is the darkness really the only thing with great enough power? I don't know any of the answers, but I want to find them._

Lexaeus sat patiently in his chair as he talked with the Dusk. "So that might be the cause of this unease." The Dusk stood by the table obediently and responded according to what it interpreted as the 'question'. _**"Silent Hero is perceptive. Master's lack of contact with his element would cause strange feelings."**_

The orange haired man knew there had always been something unnerving about the world they all 'lived' on. Only now had what was missing become so strangely apparent. No part of that world had a single inch of earth on it. Nor any speck of nature. Apparently the lack of such an element was what had been possibly the source of his restlessness amongst other things...

The warrior nodded patiently to the affirmation of the theory made by the Dusk. He began to tap his fingers on the table as more questions began to enter his mind. His eyes trailed over to the handle of the weapon leaning against the table. The formidable tomahawk had appeared just as the messenger told him it would. Despite the proof, he was still unsure of how to take any of the new promises of 'Power over Earth' he had been bestowed.

If he had any less faith in things otherworldly, he would have tried to pinch himself awake or shake himself of the delusion. But he had seen how Xemnas could perform acts beyond the fabric of 'normality', so he assumed 'this' was his equivalent of that 'talent'.

Another question wandered into his already buzzing mind. "Who is this 'Superior' you were talking about earlier?" The Dusk appeared to gap at the question before hopping around in a circle nervously.

The Dusk wilted in place before flailing up its flimsy arms. _**"Dusk is terrible! Dusk didn't tell master that Superior must see him!" **_Lexaeus gave the Dusk a bizarre look at its odd 'despair'.

A dark portal materialized out of the ground. Lexaeus stopped the sudden fear that began to well up in his throat. Something about the way it beckoned him to walk through it was at the same time making him shrink away from it. The Dusk floundered about next to him and tried to usher him into the gaping tendrils of darkness.

Lexeaus never understood why his boots began to move forward on their own. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he still had one shred of courage left from his previous self.

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_I swear I saw that thing...whatever it was. Then again, I was hearing voices, but I was sleeping, so maybe that part was a dream? Oh well, just another great mystery. Speaking of great mysteries, Roxas woke up before me. Man, if we had a moon here, I'd be checking it out to see it turned a nice royally-cobalt-aquamarine. Better watch my step, Marluxia might start prancing around with flowers or something. Damn, now I need to find a tree to knock on, maybe a good ol' sequoia. Wonder how Roxas got out of his room though? Ah well, play games now, ask nit-picky questions later._

_**"Flurry of Dancing Flames is not awake." "Dusks will not be here when master wakes up. Superior needs Dusks." "Poor master." "Master's Power over Fire is so unstable, Dusk might disappear from it" "Just like Dusk sent to-" "Dusk mustn't speak of it!" "Dusk should be here for master, but Superior's wishes are much more important..."**_

The wonderfully nostalgic aroma of cinders... That meant something was burning. Axel wrinkled his nose. Since when did things spontaneously get set on fire in his room?

There was something weighing down in his hand...and it felt kind of like _it _was burning. Axel lazily opened his eyes. Was he having a variation of that dream again?

"Hm, well that's interesting." The redhead slowly sat up from his bed. In his hand was a circular metal ring. He turned it over casually, it was mainly white but had red trimming along the inside as well as some black; it was also rather geometrically spiky. Intrigued by the red and white metal, he tossed it up in the air. It had seemed like a natural action to do.

The round metal spun perfectly, horizontally in the air. He expectantly held out his hand to catch it. A loud knock followed by a muffled, 'Axel?' broke his focus on the falling wheel. It crashed loudly into the floor when his hand didn't quite connect with the catching motion he'd planned. Axel cringed at the unpleasant clattering sound as he worked his way out of his bed and to the door.

He swore he'd heard Roxas on the other side. He pinched himself. Since when did the blond wake up before him?

Feeling the familiar pain of the reassuring pinch, Axel tried turning the doorknob. Like an unpleasant deja vu of the day before and the game room, the door refused to budge. Axel ran an irritated hand through his hair. He muttered a "This again," to himself dismally. A muffled 'Axel, are you there?' came through the door again. The redhead was jolted back to the present.

Axel knocked playfully on the door in response and leaned up against the frame. "Hey Roxas...guess you beat me to the good morning. So how ya been?" Axel felt the blond pause on the other side before giving his usual reply. "Good I guess...can't you get out?"

Green eyes widened, that meant Roxas had been locked inside too. So how did he get out? Axel being his usual self, offered obscure commentary, "Oh me? Nah, little old me got locked in without a key, I guess the old metaphorical stepmother doesn't want me to get out." Axel snickered at the fairy tale reference as he scratched the back of his head.

He heard Roxas scoff on the other side, "You can't be that bad off if you're spouting nonsense again." He could practically image the perturbed face the younger one was making, it only made him chuckle more. In an effort to regain himself, Axel diverted his gaze elsewhere. His line of vision ended up trailing to his ceiling and he suddenly recalled the spiky wheel laying on his floor, "Instead of a glass slipper though, I got this weird sharp, red metal ring-y thing."

No response came from the other side of the door. Axel tilted his head closer into the door's surface. "Roxas?"

Another span of silence passed before he heard Roxas' sullen voice speak up again. "Hey Axel, I think can open the door. Just don't try anything until I tell you, okay?" Axel was curious, but not enough to sacrifice his fleeting chance for freedom, "Sure thing."

He wondered why Roxas had spoken like he had. Something about the way he said it sounded ashamed, maybe even guilty... Axel heard the sound of metal releasing and waited for the blond's cue for him to open the door. "Okay, try it now." The redhead did as he was told and the door swung open.

Axel let out a low whistle as he stepped out, "Ni-ce!" Roxas scrunched up his nose while Axel stretched in the open hallway, "It smells like ashes in there, what'd you do?" The redhead shrugged, "Dunno, was like that when I woke up." The blond shook his head sadly at the lack of care his companion showed.

The older one paused and purposefully hit a closed hand into his other open one, "Oh yeah, I needa show you that ring thing!" Roxas scanned the room briefly.

"Axel, what are you talking about? And what's that black splotch in your room?"

The redhead looked into the room. The ring wasn't there anymore. Maybe he was losing it. He rubbed the back of his head again, "Heh, nevermind then?" The shorter member gave him an incredulous look.

"Hey, how about we finish that game of hangman from yesterday? Maybe checkers?" He took comfort in the fact he could always worry about it later. Roxas had actually _come _to him for once; that was worth celebrating in on itself.

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_I will first meet with the 'familiar strangers'; Xigbar, Xaldin, Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion. My chances of finding support among the higher Non-Existences will most likely be from those five. They also appear to have the greatest __dependability __and knowledge of the darkness and everything that entails it. If luck may have it, they will all agree to help me attain Kingdom Hearts. Hopefully they can help me convince the 'new arrivals' as well. Maybe even 'no name' can be of aid somewhere, she is a higher Non-Existent one as well after all._

_...Lately 'new' old memories have been resurfacing in my mind. Is this another gradual effect from the process of becoming a Non-Existence? The memory can be damaged, so it is not too far-fetched that it can recover with time as well. I wonder if the others are experiencing this as well..._

"Home is where the heart is?" 'No name' questioningly repeated what Xemnas had muttered.

Xemnas replied in his favored tone, deadpan. "That's what one man said...is that why you tried to escape from this room?" She didn't need to know the specifics of a phrase that had carelessly slipped out. The less she knew about _him_, the better.

The child answered back with a truthful question. "I guess?"

"I see. I suppose that would be expected of you then."

"Then why can't I go outside?"

She truly was a mere child. "I thought I told you already."

"Can't you protect me?" Protect? Some things were more precious than 'no name', but Xemnas would not voice it.

"I am but one against twelve others." It was a clever white lie, it _was _practically true.

"But, didn't you just lock them up? Can't I go outside?" 'No name' was decidedly perceptive at all of the most inconvenient times.

"You are a bird, this is your cage against the tooth and nail of the others. Be content that you are alive and can still sing." Much to Xemnas' benefit, he could be decidedly cryptic.

"I don't get it."

"It is only what this 'one man' says, just understand that." Xemnas would pride himself with his threads of half-truths, but he didn't have a heart, so he could have no such 'pride'. Given that meaning, they were nothing more than elaborate words.

Her expression took on a melancholic pitch much like a disconsolate 'whole' child would have. "I don't understand any of this."

A flickering light on the replica caught Xemnas' attention. "You should sleep. I need to talk with the others soon."

The sustained clamor of the Dusks drowned out 'no name's protests as they coaxed her into the swirling portal. Why had someone like 'no name' emerged from the darkness at all? What had turned out to be a whim of his interest was beginning to bring him a burden he could not place a name on. There was something about 'no name' that bothered Xemnas. However, other matters were more important at the moment. Such diversions were inconvenient but necessary.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part two of the chapter. It's one I hate but at the same time am 'content' with. I'd like to dub this chapter "members who deviated from the standard formula found in part one" This is where a 'plot' is supposed to be rolling, so far I don't think its quite gotten to even the crawling speed. A big thanks to everyone who's commented or even added this story to their list. It means a lot more than these little words can describe.


	12. Rusted Gears

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Nine: Rusted Gears

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Deep purples that merged into perfect blacks was all he could see around him. The swirling veins of darkness seemed to go onto eternity in every vertical and horizontal. All he could feel around him was a strange yet wrong tranquility, his nerves burned with fervid anxiety but there were no threats actually present. Xigbar looked down at his hands which he could still see in perfect clarity despite his surroundings. It was like he never left the bright lighting of his room.

Nothing in the void seemed alive or vaguely memorable, yet it felt so familiar. Almost like the fleeting image of a recently broken dream from deep slumber. He looked around questioningly. The pale creature that was supposed to be guiding him through this 'portal' was nowhere to be seen. Typical, given that the gate resembled more of a corridor now so he could get _lost _all the better.

Warily, he cast another glace at his bleak surroundings from where he stood. The walls of the corridor continued to ripple silently in their clustered formations as he looked around. Unsurprisingly, the scan yielded no discovery of a convenient exit. Xigbar heaved a sigh and began to take slow dragging steps in no particular direction of the billowing halls composed of the creeping shadows.

No sooner had his boot found the ground once more did a blinding amount of white and wind surge past him. Reflexively he shielded himself against the torrent of energy that savagely bit and scratched at him.

When the gusts had subsided, Xigbar found himself in the accustomed glow of a white walled room. A large, oval table of blue bleached steel sat in the very center of the room. Thirteen chairs composed of the same metal flanked the sides of the table, six on each side, the last chair at the farthest end.

A more than familiar person sat at the head chair. His gloved hands folded just in front of his chin so that the pressed grimace of indifference could not be seen. Golden eyes ringed with red regarded Xigbar's arrival and the gloved hands moved from their position and motioned vaguely to the surrounding chairs.

"Have a seat Xigbar, we still need to wait for the others."

The tone was overly cordial, clearly an attempt to ease any accusations made on Xigbar's part before he ever voiced them. Thick silence hung long after the echo of Xemnas' spoken words faded as did Xibgar, who did not move from where he stood, his only functioning eye betraying his still unspoken thoughts and suspicions. It was so painfully clear by the way his amber iris glint, did it reflect his tired knowing. The same dashed hopes not uncommon to finally seeing the damage long after acknowledging great billowing smoke with only ashes in its wake.

Xemnas idly shrugged at the lack of response, his leather clad hands moving back to their faithful perch in front of his face without another word. His offer was implied to be a command, but he was a rash man.

The other could not be expected to comply so soon with so little explanation. Shock was reasonable after all the unexplained events and soon to follow revelations. Xemnas took the little victory for all its worth, he knew Xigbar could very well have just lashed out at him upon arriving. Rust and copper slid shut behind tanned shutters hastily at the horrendous possibility.

Xemnas' mind slid off to the other pestering thoughts, a mental hand brushing by what felt nostalgic and comforted by the fact that Xigbar's reaction was well within normalcy- whatever that truly meant.

Still, idle time or not, the situation would be ill at ease until the others were successfully brought to the room and their fealty to him steeled.

His skin pressed closer to the curled leather digits as did the lids of his eyes bunch where they met. Faint recollections tugged at his consciousness and its waning will to remain in the present. Walls that normally repelled deadly curiosity succumbed to the alluring call and flushed images poured in from kaleidoscopic clarity to a sharper but still dulled focus.

_A regal figure garbed in a luxurious overcoat of white moved in a single fluid motion from the plush seat to the other side of the grandiose desk. A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders with reassurance. The owner of the arm smiled largely, his sunlit eyes crinkling with acute joy, but still in a degree that remained gentle. "This is one of my older students. You both will find that almost anything is a much easier task with two heads." The kind man gave a curt but still airy laugh as he continued, "Many things require that we help each other, but, sometimes words can fall short of what actions can so easily convey."_

_The person who the dedicated arm was coiled around looked up from the scarlet carpet and to the young man standing across from him. He was skinny but broad shouldered and wore a jacket similar to his own, however his was unbuttoned to reveal the grey undershirt that was layered under it. He had black brown hair that was slicked back with an oily sheen and kept in what could almost be deemed a lazy ponytail. His facial structure was sharp and made him appear much older then what his teacher had implied. Only the glaring arrogance in his sand tinted eyes attested to his immature age._

_The brunette scoffed loudly, a pointed eyebrow giving a cynical quirk before its owner leaned on his right leg peevishly, his left hand's knuckles pressed egotistically into his hip bone, "So who's this bastard?"_

_Yellow and red ringed eyes found themselves averting back to the safe stare of the floor to seek solace. He found his gaze being drawn even lower to the carpet beneath his feet, his loose bangs acting futilely as a new shield against the scrutinizing glare of the other person._

_A low and lazy drawl came from the haughty young man, "I dunno what you see in him, he looks like he's got no backbone. Can't even look me in the face, heh. Hey, kid, don'tcha got any spine to keep friggin' eye contact? Man, no offense boss, but sometimes you just gotta know when the glass is empty and not full of thin air."_

_Embarrassed __heat now rushed to his face, his shoulders sank and strained to keep him from turning away or running. Why was he making __**him**__ do this? Why couldn't he just stay in the comfort of his room, seclusion was no torture to him, it was a welcome delight. So what if he couldn't do the task he was being assigned, more hours meant so little in the grander scheme of things. But, this person, this other person was tearing that opportunity of pleasant solitude away from him._

_A sensation of itching, unquenchable temptation welled up in the pit of his stomach. He felt his teeth clench together as well as the skin of his knuckles tightening with white flesh. He could do something, all he had to do was remember __**something**__ and then break him into a million little pieces-_

_"You shouldn't instigate with such banter. It's too nice of a day to be spent being cooped up in the infirmary. You certainly do not disagree with me on that do you?"_

_The kind voice strangled his darkening thoughts, the flowing benevolence sapping the animosity from them. He snapped from his introspection and glanced up to finally meet the challenging eyes of the man on the other side of the room. The weight on his shoulder gave a supportive clap, "You both are in dire need of familiar and new company. You two have so much more in common than you think. In fact you should become part of the same study group! It's only logical that comrades stay together." The other young man opened his mouth in protest, but the kind voice cut him off happily and cleanly._

_"Braig my boy, do not hold his differences against him. You __mustn't __forget that I looked at your glass as 'full of air' when you first arrived here. It is only fair that I can ask you to learn and pass this lesson on." The kind voice graced him with a pleasant crescent which held a hint of courteous and friendly warning if he did not comply. Braig gaped wordlessly where he stood, suddenly at a loss for the retort he never had stored up for his mentor._

_The owner of the yellow and red ringed eyes gawked as well at the revelation. The kind arm gave an earnest, but soft push to the nervous body it rested on and he almost tripped over from the startling action as he fumbled toward where Braig was standing. When he clumsily regained his balance he gave a pleading look for reconsider of the kind voice's decision. Braig gave a __similar__, if not more powerless look as well._

_The kind voice chuckled deeply once more, waving a loose hand to them to shoo them out before physically ushering them out of his study. The two verbally protested but could not bring themselves to physically retaliate. Once their dug-in heels reached the outside of his room, the kind voice took a cheerful breath, "You act as though I'm sending you off to your deaths. Is making new friends really that terrifying?"_

_He and Braig both gave desperate nods and verbal affirmations, Braig's being more laced with colorful explicitives. The kind voice merely laughed again._

_"Really now? You both are already agreeing on something. You most certainly are already off to a grand start!" The __chestnut __door of copper and vermillion design shut tight before he or Braig could wedge in between the door and the frame._

_The muffled kind voice came from the other side, both teasing and friendly, "If you truly need motivation, I will be more than happy to supply it. Dinner is at the usual time, but you will not receive anything that can be considered 'real food' until you can both tell me a substantial history of each other. I strongly suggest you become the best of friends until then if you wish to eat properly. Until dinner then my two apprentices."_

_The kind voice was no longer heard, he and Braig stood dumbstruck at the door, jaws slack and appearing as if the very air was choking them._

_Braig was the first to break the air stripped silence with a loud sigh of defeat. He scratched the bottom of his chin skeptically as he looked over the person standing next to him. Forcefully he jabbed out an unenthusiastic hand and attempted to do a more proper introduction, "Well, you heard the man...you already know I'm Braig, so who the hell're you?"_

_Rust and saffron irises looked at the offered hand skeptically. Finally __forfeiting __any lingering resistance, he rigidly took Braig's extended hand. His reply was not coated with uncertainty despite how his stature suggested otherwise, "I don't know actually. But Xehanort will do I guess."_

_Braig gave an ever elegant and tactful snort. "Xehanort? What kinda name is that?"_

_Grey brows __scrunched __together and built an incredulous portrait of retort. "Master Ansem calls me that."_

_A rushed correction spurted forth from Braig upon hearing that tidbit of enlightenment. "Eh, well, can't say its not creative or some bull like that."_

_Xehanort cast a thoughtful glance to the towering ceiling of scarlet and gold. "...What __**was**__ the task that Master Ansem wanted us to do?"_

_His __colleague's__ mouth contorted into a twisted line of disapproval and ignorance, "Beats me." Braig yawned loudly, "So whaddya want to do?"_

_The tanned man let a puff of taxed air from his mouth, "I don't know. And quite frankly I don't care."_

_He heard the whisper of cotton folding together and sensed a change of demeanor. A hushed voice with underlying devious intent floated up to his ears._

_"Hey Xehanort, do you like cake...actually, what about Soufflés?" Xehanort gave a look similar to the way he would regard a raving lunatic. No sooner had Braig seen his apparent confusion did a calculating and toothy smile emerge._

"What the hell are you trying to do Xemnas?!" It was a voice as vicious as the violent pull that nearly dragged him out of his seat as led by his coat's hood drawstrings.

Gold and red eyes came into view from the black cover. Xemnas vaguely acknowledged Xigbar's impatient outburst with a spared glance as he calmly removed himself from the other's grasp. Xigbar's tensed muscles relaxed fractionally after regaining Xemnas' attention. The sniper released his grip and took a breath to launch another question of interrogation. The tanned man cut down his attempt with a cold utterance that was nearly inaudible. Its quiet contents caused Xigbar to pale.

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Mechanically, Xigbar's feet moved to the space closest to Xemnas' right, the white haired man did not say anything even as the other's presence was so heavily apparent next to him. The sniper leaned weightily on the frigid surface of the oval table space. "So this is your idea of a game huh?" A whisper of a question despite how he _should _have felt and even though the rest of the room was barren of prying thoughts save for their two selves.

Xemnas remained unresponsive, his gloves securely interlaced with each other and his eyes shut tight. Xigbar decided to overlook it and continued his one-sided conversation bravely. He animatedly pointed up to the ceiling with a sardonic hand, his head cocked to the side with severe disbelief and rebuke, "Cause you know, for a game, this one's rules suck ass as far as I can tell."

The sniper threw out his hands to his sides, his belittling sneer nearly palpable as he voiced his criticisms. "Seriously man, what kinda game involves those disturbing eyeless humanoid things?!" Xigbar's spread arms hovered in the air, Xemnas gave no verbal reply.

Xigbar's bottom jaw jutted out to better emphasize the enunciated _tch_, his arms fell to his sides momentarily, he held up an admonishing hand that he began to count reasons off of, tone growing ever more irritated as he listed them, "That and they can freaking talk! It's damn horrible too, like some bitch that didn't cut her painted nails raked 'em down good on a giant chalkboard. Oh, and then this messed up 'weapon' and 'control of space' chatter. But, I bet you already knew about that didn't you?" He gave an uneasy laugh and smile.

The tanned man said nothing. Xigbar's once raised hand dropped down. All of his false hospitality finally giving way to boiling hostility, his voice dropped to a much lower tone and gained a thick, sullen quality unfitting of the sniper's usual demeanor.

"How long have you been playing this game with us Xemnas? Since the beginning or what?"

Silence heralded his grave accusation.

Rising anger having spilled over, he grabbed the silver metal that choked his fellow's black cloak and held Xemnas' half shut eyes on the same level as his own blazing amber one. He finally spat out the single question that ordained the origin of his brewing and newfound distrust for the tanned man.

"What the hell are you trying to do Xemnas?!"

Xemnas' gaze clouded darkly. He began to form words at the same quiet a parent would lull a child into cherished slumber, however the words rang like a terrible nightmare to its intended.

"I thought I taught you to be more patient _Braig_, or do you need a repeat of that lesson?" Xigbar froze in place. _Braig? Who's-_

The sniper had no idea why that name had such an effect on him. His name was Xigbar. _No, it was Braig first. Wait, damn, that can't be right-_

Xemnas paid little attention to him having achieved a desired calm. True, it was a small wrinkle in the plan, but one that could easily be smoothed out later. His focus flicked and he turned at sensing a subtle movement. Four consecutive portals of swirling darkness opened up at the opposing end of the contrastingly colored table. From each of them a single Dusk leapt out, each followed by Lexaeus, Zexion, Vexen and Xaldin from their own respective gates. Xemnas collected himself and stood formally up from his seat to address them.

"I see you all have arrived safely, do have a seat."

Zexion obediently took a seat without a word, his head tilted in curiosity from the sight of Xigbar's distraught appearance amongst other things. He gave a strained nod in Xemnas' direction, his visible eye misty and blinking more than what could be considered necessary. Lexaeus also regarded Xigbar with an anxious look before taking a seat as well, his arms patiently folded across his chest with only the sound of the material of his coat shifting as any indication he was alive. Xaldin followed suit, only a raised eyebrow indicating his skepticism of the situation. Xigbar having recovered from his shock, docilely took a seat next to Xemnas'. Vexen was the last to be seated, a bitter line of pressed lips showing his sour astonishment.

They all faced Xemnas patiently, each with their own brand and degree of their wonderings for the strange meeting. A soft smirk graced Xemnas' face as his eyes locked with each of theirs. In them was a collective reflection of morbid understanding.

His cool deadpan broke the room's stillness, "I'm sure you all have many questions. But, perhaps we should start with the beginning...it may help gauge the worth of whatever inquires may still be lingering in your mind."

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A humble piece of ivory clacked onto the checkered board of marble. Bright green eyes stared casually up from the black and white battlefield to the wandering blue eyes of his opponent. He was about to speak but faltered when he was met with the usual portrayal of enigmatic introspection. Axel quickly inhaled back the buoyant 'your move Roxas' and reflexively sunk back into a more saturated composure.

Before he could even start the first syllable of his questioning, Roxas was already speaking, his normally soft voice was interlaced with a distant echo of frivolous conversation, "Axel, if you could have any power in the world, what would it be?"

Axel blinked dumbly. _Random._ The redhead shrugged internally and muttered a half-hearted, "I dunno, burn stuff?"

Roxas tilted his head playfully to the side, the corners of his mouth gravitating upwards to his ears, "I think you already got that ability if your hair looks like that."

The skinnier of the two pouted sarcastically then flashed a devilish smirk to replace it. Axel took on an air of feigned pride, puffed up his bony chest and ran a dignified hand through his bright mane of hair, "Of course, a color like this and its all the better and more convenient for when I have no time to get a haircut. Why use scissors when I could just burn it off, it's a timesaver. You should see what happens when I need to dry it, all I have to do is look into the mirror and think burn-y thoughts and the water's gone."

The blond's shoulders shook with quiet laughter. Axel added his own chuckles at his self-degradation. Roxas eventually got a hold of himself and looked direly at Axel, whose snickers were still fading away.

"Seriously, I'm surprised that your hair doesn't smell even though it _is_ burning."

Axel froze.

"I never knew you'd go so far just to get a joke in."

Green eyes wandered slowly skywards and to his spiked back hairline.

Roxas pointed a questioning finger to Axel as his head craned to the side, "How _did_ you get it to light like that?"

Needless to say, Roxas learned how loud Axel could yell rather then how he spontaneously lit his hair on fire.

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Marluxia coughed violently into the back of his hand. The shock from the weapon was surprising but the massive dust cloud was completely unexpected. The assassin squinted vainly through watery eyes and particles of material that was once his door. The scythe in his hand dissipated into the air and he waved his arm to fan away the lingering mass obstructing his sight of the door.

Having cast away the hindering cloud, he found that the door was still miraculously there, the bland white of the hallway peeking in from the new line in the entrance. He smiled at the work he had done and shoved open the door fully. Without much thought he began walking in the direction of Luxord's room. He'd been given a great, even if questionable, power. The brunette had a compulsive need to share it, maybe even form a plot with Luxord to truly overthrow Xemnas.

Eagerly he paced to Luxord's room. Surely his gambling companion would agree that leading was more glorious then simply riding on the coattails of Xemnas' crusade for whatever Kingdom Hearts was supposed to be.

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The liquid doppelganger stared up from its crudely shaped guitar to its creator who was currently giving off waves of deadly frustration. Demyx rubbed one of his temples with one finger in circled and heavily pressured motion. In his lap sat the still silent blue and white sitar. The would-be musician was becoming exceedingly disgruntled by his lack of knowledge of how to properly tune the instrument.

Even though he had started out optimistically and in the highest of hopes, reality had a tendency of becoming the harsh wall that slammed hope into infinitely smaller pieces. No matter which way Demyx seemed to try and tune the strings, no consistently appropriate sound would ever be produced. The blond paused and tried hopelessly at one of the tuning knobs once more. The water clone bubbled sympathetically at its master's bewilderment and questioningly reached out an undulating palm to help.

Demyx's hand immediately pulled away from his temple and he forced a dry laugh, his aqua twin's glowing eyes dimmed with worry at the sound of it. The sitar melted away into white droplets and blond strained an equally false smile at his empty hands before getting up from the floor with a brave sniff.

With a quick wipe with the ball of his palm, Demyx pushed back the remnants of his waning dejection. The doppelganger blinked quietly in confusion and reserved anxiety. The musician beamed solemnly at his watery incarnation.

He spoke with softer tenor laced with an abnormal melancholy of sad realization, "I wish I could tune it, but I can't figure it out. I'd ask for help, but there's no one to ask. I'd try to find information, but I can't." Demyx laughed curtly, but it did little good to hide his cold regard for his failure.

"What's the point in having something so beautiful when I can't even use it?" The blond breathed out harshly, his previous doubts beginning to flood and overwhelm his stability. He took a shaky breath and anger seeped thickly into his voice, "I'm so powerless, I can't even open my stupid door! It's probably the reason why I'm even locked in here in the first place!"

The blue clarity of the body of water clouded to a poisonous black. The water incarnation surged from its seat and placed a comforting hand on its master's shoulder despite how the rest of its aqua form was violently spiking and convulsing. Demyx stared despairingly into its emerald orbs for eyes. The liquid figure managed to begin humming a low tune. Demyx's sea green eyes relaxed and the doppelganger's body stabilized like the calm following a storm.

The water twin's hand slid off Demyx's shoulder and Demyx's smile was reborn. "Thanks for reminding me." The azure creature nodded in reply.

Demyx turned and gave his colorless door a challenging glare. "Think you could unlock the door from the other side?" The clone floated to the door and oozed through the cracks until the last of its blue drops faded away. The blond heard a loud click and the door opened with his watery duplicate standing loyally on the other side.

The water user took refreshed steps outside his room. He glanced up to the ceiling and tapped the side of his cheek reflectively. An idea began to spin itself in his mind, as the threads came together he found himself musing aloud, "We have a huge library, I bet there's a book there on sitars."

---------------------------------------------  
Vexen snorted objectively at Xemnas' suggestion, "The beginning? What good does pointless repetition of the vague past do for the present situation? As out of line as this probably sounds, human memories tend to fade as time passes, not the reverse."

Xemnas did not advert his gaze or bat a lash at the statement of common information, instead he delivered a biting retort wrapped in cool indifference, "That would be true if we were human. We clearly are not. I believe you know this all for yourselves in some degree. Certainly you must have wondered why you act in particular ways without much reason or thought. I believe they are old habits left over from previous experiences from a life that can barely be grasped."

The surrounding council murmured and muttered agreements amongst themselves.

The scientist scowled distastefully and the lines of his face pressed with jaded conclusion, "I can relate to your hypothesis, but only to the most minimal of a degree. You are still basing your rationale on a wild interpretation of ambiguous thoughts and your implication of possible nostalgia. -Or is this your new ammunition for your 'no emotion' theory? You have stated it many times and without real or solid backing."

"But something is certain, we no longer have hearts." Unexpectedly it was Xaldin who spoke directly after Vexen. The ice user expressed his surprise with widened eyes and the small gaping of his mouth. The lancer continued without noticeable pause, "At least the physical ones anyway. But like you said, we don't seem to have much memory about why we are even here or why we even know the things we already seem to 'know'. We just accept it, and exist mindlessly and automatically in this freakish purgatory."

"Purgatory? You're babbling nonsense Xaldin."

The brunette cast a wary look at the blue haired boy, "Do you have a better explanation?"

Zexion's demeanor took on a tired appearance and he placed a contemplative hand on his chin to hide it, "Yes and no. We exist because we are not meant to exist. We are probably here because we have no where else to go. We are the dregs of what we originally were, the natural order of equilibrium is just placing the excess where it belongs... Don't ask me how I know this, but I accept it as true." His blue eye darted to their unofficially titled superior, "You can confirm what I am saying can't you Xemnas?" The tanned man gave a light nod of confirmation.

The schemer gained new energy and motioned to his fellows with an open hand, "My proof that I am not delusional."

Vexen scoffed, "Or evidence you both share the same insanity." Zexion closed his visible eye, "Possibly. But we do fit the definition of what a Non-Existence is. Or could it be that you don't truly know what a _real_ Non-Existence is Vexen?" The scientist twitched where he sat, unable to supply a substantial answer to the blunt question.

The blue haired boy leaned his chin graciously on the flat of his hand. Zexion's eyebrow furrowed critically, an articulate inquiry soaked with sharp scrutiny followed the skeptical look, "You often talk of experiments entailing the study of hearts, the Heartless and Non-Existences, but do you actually know what any of the terming means or is it all some paper farce to maintain that guise of an intellect of yours?"

The scientist replied immediately and heatedly without a second thought, "The study of hearts is an experiment concerning the dissection of true existence. The trinity of Heart, Body and soul is what composes a true existence. However, what binds the three together is the Heart, without it the Body and soul disappear. What causes the Heart to separate is an energy called darkness. Like a virus, darkness infects the Heart and severs it from the body and soul, in doing so, the Heart is able to achieve monumental power, but at the cost of lucid thought processes. The rogue heart becomes a completely separate entity once all ties to what can be called a consciousness, is broken. The new entity is called a heartless."

Vexen blinked owlishly at his own statement, he took a deep breath before belting out the remainder of his speech, "Recent studies show that the remaining parts of the original existence, defy the laws of true existence and exist as a Non-Existence. They are a category of beings that exist in theory after the heart is separated from the body, a transformation that is said to be the exact same as death. What can only be called a soul with strong emotions is what drives the cast off body and soul after the darkness has consumed the heart. Most commonly known about beings without hearts is that they lack the ability to have emotions, because the heart is what creates emotions. The cast off body, or Non-Existence however is able to behave with certain emotions because of the 'soul's memory."

Vexen sagged into his seat as he absorbed his own words. Xemnas took the moment to begin indulging them with information he had come across long ago.

"Thank you for that enlightenment Vexen, now let me elaborate on findings which you will certainly appreciate- literal meaning of the saying aside. You all recall _exactly_ what the heartless are and their purpose are correct?" The blond opened his mouth to articulate another definition but halted himself from speaking.

Xemnas resumed speaking, "As you may or may not know, the heartless are one and the same as the darkness that rendered us without our own hearts. Under what circumstances the heartless were able to accomplish this against us, I am unsure. But I can safely assume that the memory was lost to the claws of darkness, as well as any of the other gaps that allude to our past identities."

Crisp silence laced the air as the weight of what the words meant sank in. Xigbar spoke what the others were most likely unable to bring themselves to say, "So what, now we're all just ghosts now?"

Lexaeus ignored the sniper's grim words and addressed Xemnas directly, "As well fitting as all of this is, is there truly any outside proof? Perhaps something else is afoot. It is preposterous to suggest that all of our actions and emotions are imitations."

"Indeed it is. In fact I would share similar ideas myself, however-" Xemnas made a series of bound pages appear from the air with a quick hand motion. Without much care he tossed a packet to each of the others. "These are reports that have come from a world called Hollow Bastion. They are the recorded fruits of research done by a group of people who were investigating the workings of the heart and the darkness."

Each of them picked up a respective bundle. Xigbar averted his gaze from the names on the packet while the others poked and prodded them like the alienating objects they were. Each was held fast in their own worlds of shock from the gravity of the declaration.

"The researchers Even, Braig, Ienzo, Dilan, and Eleaus all served under the administrative watch of their leader, Ansem. The documents themselves are a compilation of everything that they discovered. This should remove any doubts you may have about what I have told you."

Each of them flipped through the pages, each hungrily scanning the pages to confirm every bit of information.

"The names stir up a strange semblance of sentiment don't they? Even though we all were 'born' here with different names, those are our true ones. In actuality it was probably a result from the darkness tearing apart our memories that scrambled our true names when the memories recovered. -You're free to look at the names yourselves if you do not believe me...save for the additional x, those six are our names."

Vexen set down his packet, stare affixed to the names on the cover sheet and his tone set to a rueful murmur, "As rewarding as all of this is, it so far seems to be nothing more than a reopening of poorly healed wounds and scars. I'd like to believe you didn't just call us here to share our catastrophic demises with us. But do not feel any hindrance to reveal your hidden vial of salt to rub in deeper, I am already well ashamed of my own fallibility- or as you have proven, my lack of a feeling of defeat."

The other overlooked the spiteful remark, "Vexen do not misunderstand, this is only a prelude to what I truly wish to discuss."

The scientist replied with a contemptuous sarcasm, "A more detailed analysis of our Non-Existences or a conclusion to the research our 'other selves' never completed?"

"You're free to do that in your idle time. However, I desire to obtain Kingdom Hearts in order to restore all of our hearts-"

Lexaeus interjected to the point Xemnas was delaying, "And you need our assistance." Xaldin tagged on a question in calm alarm, "But why would you want to restore your heart now? What could we possibly gain from having our hearts returned?"

Xemnas shook his head like a parent would to a child too young to understand death, "Without hearts we will surely be exterminated."

The others were silent, their questions buzzing louder then their baited breaths.

"The darkness grants magnificent gifts to those who employ it but at the cost of the body and soul...The powers you have most recently received, consider it proof of the forced pact of paying the price of your hearts. They are the gifts from the void of Nothing. Much like the darkness, there are great and misunderstood powers. And most recently, I have discovered that there exists a force known as the keyblade which seeks to destroy everything that does not side with the light. The person wielding it will find us and he will destroy us unless we have hearts. I have seen him firsthand as have the Dusks, and he is not a threat to be taken remissly."

"So what course of action do we take? And how are you so sure that this 'Kingdom Hearts' is the solution?"

Xemnas turned to the direction of the voice the reply came from, Vexen was bemusedly leafing through his packet of information once more. Xemnas offered another lure of enticing fact, "Hearts are the epitome of light, the keyblade cannot harm what it is meant to protect... Kingdom Hearts is the greatest heart of all, it is where all hearts belong. We obtain Kingdom Hearts, we secure our future."

Zexion smirked wearily over the knuckles his chin was propped against, "We should start securing it immediately then."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I really have no excuse for the tardiness and shoddiness of this chapter. The original six get to hog the spotlight here, _especially_ Xemnas. I was debating certain ideas and events before resolving the issue. Ideally the revised chronology of these events will have flowed decently enough and the edits will not have been extremely obvious. Severely contrasting content? Check. Confused? Good; wait for clarification in the next chapter.

TRIVIA: There was a small, random reference to ALE in this chapter, specifically from prompt #48 - Childhood. The tune the water clone hums is not necessarily important, but in my mind it is _Pray_ (_extremely_ short, instrumental and easily hum-able) from DDS, rather then something common like a lullaby. Let it also be known that it is the same tune (in my opinion) that Demyx is trying to "compose" the notes for (well, an extended version), and yes, I do know it is a happy piano piece, but I don't care. If you want to hear it, go to the download link in my profile.


	13. Edge of the Horizon

Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Ten: Edge of the Horizon

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Axel was still running his hands through his hair frantically.

Roxas' face had taken up the expression of dumbfounded shock ever since the redhead had discovered his hair had spontaneously burst into flames.

Content with how the top of his head was miraculously intact, Axel wiped an invisible sweat from his forehead. The blond finally broke out of his thunderstruck trance long enough to repeat his question.

"So...how did you do that Axel?"

The other shrugged with the greatest ignorance, his uncertainty of what had transpired still evident in how he was biting his bottom lip.

Blue eyes scanned over the ruins of their chess game. The board had been shoved to the side in Axel's panic. The black and white pieces were scattered across the floor as if they were trying to escape the prospect of combustion.

Roxas eyed a black rook that was pressed to the side of his shoe sole. The idea of picking up the pieces crossed his mind, but his thoughts kept dancing back to how _insane_ things seemed to have been becoming.

Axel looked up at hearing Roxas' voice cracking uneasily with forcing the pace of events back to the norm, "-We should probably set the board back up."

The blond creaked out of his seat to initiate what he had mumbled. Out of the corner of his eyes he thought he saw Axel staring at him with an apologetic grimace, but disregarded the thought. Roxas tried to block out the questions bubbling in his head with the obligatory task of collecting the game components.

The board was brought tenderly back to the middle table, and the pieces accordingly lined up. The game proceeded as uneventful as it had been prior to the random lapse of physics and logic.

Grotesque doubt gnawing off of the ideas spawned by the string of supernatural events continued to bother Roxas despite his best intentions. It didn't help his train of thought that Axel appeared to be occupied with trying to re-spark whatever trick or magic he had used to impersonate a freakish human candle.

Five too many times of Axel snapping his fingers and hushed concentrations of "_Agi!_" "_Fuegan!_" and other foreign nonessentials eventually drove Roxas to coldly address his friend.

"Axel, you're the one who wanted to play chess-"

The boy swore he saw a gratified spark blink into existence in the palm of his friend's hand.

Axel looked from his hand to Roxas, green eyes brimming with newborn curiosity.

"Hey Roxas, have you had any weird dreams lately?"

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_A clumsy racket of glass nearly breaking into each other echoed after them even after Braig had slammed the unfortunate door shut. He could have sworn he'd seen splinters of maple spew forth from the abusive force, but Xehanort said nothing. He warily took in the sight of the room he and his most tentative of a 'new friend' had just stowed away in._

_Several rows of shelves filled with jars extorting any and all available space lined the walls. Branded on each of their transparent and cylindrical bodies was some code of shorthand for an alchemic language he was illiterate to. At the very center and back of the room was an impressive behemoth of copper that was thickly coated in the remnants of cinder and ash. The soft glow from its grated mouth of bronze told him that it was most likely a furnace or other species of heater._

_Xehanort's thoughts were snapped out of observation by Braig's breathy laughter and incoherent boasting. He gave the brunette a disgusted look as he began to recall what the source of his friend's amusement was._

_Somehow Braig's twisted and demented methodology had managed to drag him into playing a childish trick on someone he lovingly referred to as 'Evenmodo of Radiant Garden's Kitchen'._

_He didn't understand what such a confusing pun had meant as Braig cajoled him into a room of linoleum and polished granite with walls where pots and pans were hung like trophy game. He didn't understand what Braig was snickering so conceitedly at, as said man stealthily navigated to the unguarded and massive door of an oven. The implications of what Braig's seemingly unrelated question earlier about 'Do you like Soufflés?' did not even begin to register in his mind even as a massive jar of what could easily qualify as a biological hazard, was so eagerly emptied through the opened maw of the oven into a pan of what was to mature into a delectable pastry._

_All appropriate consequences were not realized until the vital seconds after Braig gave the oven door an executing slam. Even more moments of ignorance passed which allowed for the warped concoction to reach a boiling climax. His inaction to do anything resulted in the bubbling mutation within to erupt violently in the vacuum of the oven._

_Xehanort was given a deafening silence to acknowledge the creamy tan that was smeared against the interior glass of the oven door and was, to him, crying out for an explanation of why it had been so ardently murdered. Xehanort felt a semblance of pity that was soon uprooted as a cool, and now hollowed jar was pressed into his hands. He had no time to question Braig as a series of frantic steps tore down the outer halls with increasing ferocity. The door snapped against the wall like a prey starved trap as a shrilly belated alarm sounded, "BRAIG YOU JUVENILE DELINQUENT OF A PRICK!"_

_In a manner unbefitting of any feeling or ethical human, Braig waved cheerfully at his prank-quarry. His voice carrying the most superficial sweetness of a vengeance well repaid, "Nice to see you too Even! Did licking pages finally bore you enough to make you crawl out of that cave of a library of yours?"_

_Xehanort finally pried his eyes away from the gooey batter that was clawing at the oven's window to get a glance of the stranger who was the unlucky victim of Braig's nicknames and less then friendly or forgivable idea of banter._

_'Evenmodo', or more accurately Even, was in no way built to be a hearty athlete as evidenced by his jagged breaths. He too wore the same coat and colored undershirt garb as himself and Braig. The exception being that his outer jacket was properly buttoned with only a small triangle of green cotton peaking out from the fork of white over layer. His powdery complexion suggested that he was not one to stray under the sun for too long and that he preferred the company of quieter hobbies, most likely reading based on the deep lines that ran under his eyes as well as Braig's blunt and previous commentary. He had a pale shade of blond hair that could be almost mistaken for grey that was neatly- or had been neatly tied back. His ponytail was now disheveled and there were generously long bangs sticking uncomfortably out of their place and draping over his heaving shoulders. Even was easily taller then the both of them despite how he was leaning unnaturally forward. Whether it was from his obvious weariness or bad posture he could not tell in that sparse moment._

_Even's displeased scowl had deepened to the darkest level of murderous intent. His hand had deftly reached to the side for a stainless steel pan that was hanging from the nearby rack. Braig noticed this hostile action and urgently yanked Xehanort out of the room just as Even let out an angry battle cry. They both heard the flat metal connect with where they had been and they continued their fearful retreat until they had reached the room they were currently camped in._

_Braig took a proud breath as if he had accomplished an amazing feat to be consecrated in the annals of history. Xehanort continued to glare at him with the same dislike that had not left him since their recent introduction to each other._

_Braig sensed the difference of opinion in the air and met Xehanort's amber glare with his own arrogant expression of challenge. The brunette added on an uncaring shrug as if it were only a small misfortune such as tripping or dropping coins from one's wallet._

_Xehanort's glare only intensified, "You should have stayed there and gotten what you deserved."_

_The other laughed uproariously at a joke only he found entertaining. As the initial volume tapered, Braig waved his hand to push away whatever husk of a conscience he never had that may have still been hanging in the air. Xehanort felt his jaw clench on its own volition._

_"Getting beaned in the head with a skillet?" he tapped the side of his head with his finger dutifully, oily sarcasm spilling over his words, "I'll pass on that round of fuzzies and good stuff." Xehanort stared, Braig smirked and flicked his hand in an outward fan, his eyebrow quirked as if he'd done nothing wrong, "Besides, Even needs to lighten up and get some exercise. No harm in giving him the __**right **__motivation as good Ansem likes to call it."_

_Xehanort had given up trying to make sense of his 'new friend' and rolled his eyes at the statement appropriately, "Braig you truly are a sad and delirious man."_

_Braig cackled once more at a comedic pun only he could hear, "Only as sad and delirious as it takes to get you to look me straight in the eye and actually talk without mumbling like you're a girl scout being held at gunpoint."_

_Xehanort scoffed indignantly at the __statement__. He half-heartedly tried to force his line of vision back to the floor only to find that the tarnished tiles held none of the same allure it previously had._

_"Anyway, as endearing as this all has been Lost-in-Found, I think we've been wallowing here long enough. But Evenzilla is probably still swinging that skillet, ranting about how his crappy pansy cake thing was ruined, so we're going to take the secret route."_

_Xehanort returned his gaze to Braig who was making unnecessary gestures. He elaborated with deadpan and exhaustion nipping at his words the only question he could conjure up, "And __**what **__would that be?"_

_Braig's drew random circles in the air, his sandy eyes following his finger's trail until it finally pointed strictly skyward._

_"The air ducts- what else??"_

---------------------------------------------  
Xaldin heaved a deep sigh, "Any task is obviously easier said then done. Are there any more specifics that pertain to completing this goal?"

Effortless reply came from Xemnas, "Specifics? I know very little as it is."

The sound of rustling papers being lifted up was accompanied by Zexion's voice, "Where did you acquire these? Maybe there are more to be found there."

"In the library," he replied as if it were merely an exam, "I stumbled upon the pages by chance."

Zexion began to form the first letters of response to this new information, but Xemnas wisely interjected to save himself from mindless repetition, "Investigating every inch of the library would easily be a search that would span many months, maybe even years."

The blue haired boy slumped, puffing an air of a scoff out to display his disappointment. Vexen wasted no time in voicing his overspent patience, and still growing irritation, "So we're going on an Easter egg hunt in the hopes of finding more information?" The blond scoffed loudly, "Our weak options are growing ever dimmer."

The schemer's mouth twitched, eyes squinting to the barest of glares to Vexen before looking to Xemnas with his version of hopeful suggestion, "Why not ask the others? Their overall intelligence may not be the most riveting of examples, but we can just tell them to only look for those six names."

Hands well acquainted with the grip of vials and the scratching of pencils slammed disbelievingly onto the white table, "Ask the neophytes?! Why not just save them the trouble and destroy the library for them as well as ourselves? It would be more effective and there would be less surprise! If what Xemnas says is true, they too have powers and they act temperamental enough to fully employ them against us in ignorant retaliation!"

The vague glare returned to Zexion's face, this time narrowing accordingly to his colleague's outburst, "You're being too finicky Vexen, beggars can't be choosers."

Vexen frowned sourly at the old proverb that had been directed to him. He started what should have been a snipe of an insult but caught himself mentally, and hid his hesitation by brushing back his overly long bangs. Vexen waved his open hand to Zexion to grab the common sense out of the air, eyebrows curling as a twist of disgust formed on his lips, "You're being **foolhardy** Zexion, prudent men are never beggars."

Zexion's visible eye widened with the condescending implication and was about to launch a tirade of old faults and flaws that he could only half remember. Lexaeus lowered a halting hand in front of the two people about to wage verbal war on each other. His low voice cut through clear and calm, "We are a team of researchers not bickering children."

The two immediately bit back the scornful remarks anxiously sitting on the narrowest tips of their tongues. Lexaeus retracted his hand and motioned politely to the blond, "However, Vexen has mentioned a crude point. The others do not share the same knowledge or trust as we do. It would most likely be much simpler if we did not needlessly include them."

The younger member realized his brashness and shrugged it off, "Fair enough." With a change of topic and unneeded readjustment of his coat, he proceeded to avert any lingering attention on the blunder of his composure, "But out of curiosity, will the rest of them ever be employed for our cause? If not, then we should just eliminate them."

Xigbar chuckled at the blunt assessment of how expendable the blue haired boy made the other seven seem, "Sugar-coating it like always eh Zexion?"

Said member gave him a cynical look, Xigbar batted it away with a meaningless gesture. Despite his aloofness on the welfare of those outside of their inner circle, his teasing curiosity got the better of him, "But yeah, what **do** we do about the brats?"

Xemnas replied immediately as though the outsider's fates rested entirely in his hands, "I will find a use for them. They can carry out any mundane tasks should need be. It is better to have clueless servants at our disposal rather then none at all."

The sniper's shoulders jolted up as the common gesture of nonchalance that was mixed with what could be interpreted as disappointment, "_Tch_, whatever you think Xemnas. I think we should keep 'em anyway, they're entertaining little insects."

Purple eyes rolled with chagrin, thick arms finding familiar position over a broad chest, "Apparently Xigbar has infatuated himself with his new _pets_."

The other brunette feigned a great sigh of pity and shook his head sympathetically, "As misinterpreting as always. Don't know about you, but I like having a laugh every now and then. Unlike you sir angry frowny sideburns." He held two straight index fingers by the sides of his face and wiggled them, cocky smirk tilting even greater.

Xaldin merely raised his eyebrow and turned his attention to other people who could be dignified with conversation, "...Immature name-calling aside, does the research say anything about Kingdom Hearts Xemnas?"

The white-haired man took a moment to close his eyes before speaking words that dragged through the air with the aura of well recited fact, "Except from what I told you already, Kingdom Hearts is supposed to be a world of sorts."

Lexaeus spoke up from his seat, eyes fixed on the ever bleak table, "So essentially our only lead is to look for this world?"

Vexen muttered bitterly along a retreating side glance of distaste, "Like looking for a specific grain of sand on a dark beach."

Their self-nominated leader spoke above Vexen's dark sentiments with honest prospect, "Until a better solution for searching for Kingdom Hearts is discovered, yes we will be looking for it blindly."

Xigbar practically leapt out of his seat with objection, "Hold on a second! Cheery as it already is, you do know how _crazy_ that sounds right? How do we even get off this shine-n-clean rock to explore? I don't trust those freaking sock guys and their trippy doors."

Xemnas gave him a wry look that properly conveyed his skepticism of questioning logic that was as simple as basic arithmetic, "The portals the Dusks provide are _exactly_ how we will conduct our search, as well as collect any useful information off of other worlds."

Unsurprisingly, the next inquiry of doubt came from Vexen, "You talk as though the Dusks will listen to us, but _will_ they? From what I've heard of their chatter, it sounded more like _you_ were their master."

The tanned man pressed himself off of his chair with slow ease, "I assure you, they regard all of us as equals. -Which reminds me, I have a world to show you."

Once more Vexen was the voice of acidic challenge, "And what would this world be?"

Wordlessly, Xemnas extended his hand to the empty air and wrapped around the tendrils that composed tangibility. With the ease of paper being ripped, a gaping fountain of darkness sprouted out of the previous void.

A low whistle came from the collection of members he wasn't facing. Xemnas absently assumed it was Xigbar.

Xemnas lowered his hand and motioned for the others to follow him into the pulsating gate.

"I am going to show you a place that was once called home."

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_The constricting space he was so painfully cramped and inching through was like the innards of a metallic serpent that had swallowed him whole. The only two words he could find to describe it was that it was a dusty and miserable place._

_'No, that would be a __**compliment**__.' he tartly thought to himself._

_The secret escape route of Braig's was beginning to bring into question its worth and practicality- not that he really had anything to compare it to per say._

_But that didn't change the fact that he had been crawling through the dark tubes with his most antagonistic 'friend' for what seemed like hours. Xehanort found himself trying to check the top of his wrist for a timepiece he never owned. He gave a loud snort at realizing his own lack of possession of such an item._

_He took a deep breath as he tried to direct the most polite demand of 'getting him the hell out of the infernal passage' to Braig. All he managed was a shuddering cough from too quickly inhaling air thick with forgotten maintenance._

_The jagged teeth of a less then sanitary boot met his mouth with a revolting nudge of purpose and response._

_Xehanort sputtered and spat away at the taste of dirt and other impurities collected from many floors that his tongue had recently sampled. He wiped his mouth with the cuff of the white coat he couldn't see, but felt and assumed was more then likely now covered in splotches of unclean filth._

_An excited __murmur __carried down to his ears despite his personal thoughts on the matter._

_"Hey guess what Zay-hah-snort!" Xehanort groaned at the butchering of his name. "We don't have to go all the way, we can just drop in on my good buddy Elly!"_

_Xehanort gave a spiteful remark laced with as much sarcasm as the air in the ducts were with dust, "I'm just __**overflowing**__ with __anticipation__."_

_He heard a deadly creak of metal and his vision shot to where the form of his guide had been._

_A biting orange throb of light caused him to wince at first. He held out a hand to blot out the painful glare of the beaming brightness._

_The unseen source of Braig's mocking voice was what drove him to plunge into the radiating light._

_A flood of a withering __palette __of leaves obstructed his vision as he landed heavily onto a lumpy floor. With a slight stinging in his palms from the impact, he pushed himself off of the soggy leaf drowned floor. Xehanort heard cackling reverberating around him and he looked rapidly around to his new surroundings, the dull ache of bright light subsiding as he grasped his bearings._

_Amidst the open area and overabundance of neglected debris of autumn was some sort of stone auditorium. The place he had so unscrupulously fell out of was at the side of the curved mouth of what may have been the stage. Rows of pink and grey stone crowded around the rock stage where he now stood. Beyond those modest imitations of armless and comfortless chairs were the near barren trees the gratuitous leaf carpet had originated from._

_In the webbing of these trees was a starkly large oak from which Braig had found a __sociable __perch and was chatting with a rather burly man barely eclipsed by the side of the tree's trunk._

_Xehanort brushed off the scraps that still clung to his significantly less clean once-white coat and jogged up to where the troublesome brunette was._

_Why he hadn't simply abandoned Braig some time ago was slightly beyond him. But there was a distant prickling sensation that had rooted itself in his chest ever since he had left his caretaker's study. He didn't understand what it was, but it welled up to a strange bubble of warmth and cool that seemed pleasant._

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Light blond brows pressed together at the obedient line-up of reds and blacks. A musing sound pressed between thoughtful lips as a gloved thumb ran over a well-groomed beard of hair thoughtfully.

Luxord pointed a slow hand from one of the checkered rows and raised it so that the stack followed where his black digit indicated. "Row 3 on Jack of Spades-"

A loud jostling sound of a doorknob being strangled arrested Luxord's attention. He swerved around fully and the massive cards behind him crashed down into lifeless heaps.

His eyebrows raised and his intrigue was piqued at who his impatient visitor could be.

As he reached the door which had stopped rattling so angrily he called out to the possible stranger on the other side.

"Any person with manners would knock, may I inquire who is it that's so eager to visit me?"

The gambler heard a peeved moan on the other side and pursed his lips in mild recognition and amusement. He raised his tone accordingly and with a more resigned sense of causality, "Oh it's you Marluxia, how careless of me to forget the time."

Marluxia's gruff voice came from the other side, his ruffled agitation almost tangibly leaking through the crevices of the door, "Yeah sure, are you still locked in or what?"

Luxord's expression contorted slightly before recalling that he had indeed been locked within his room.

The brunette quickly became impatient and gave a smug half-warning to Luxord, "I'm going to cut open the door so stay back or something."

His eyes widened but he decided it wasn't worth the risk of calling Marluxia's threat-promise. He took a step back and warily watched the door to see how well his dealer's intuition was functioning in placing his trust in the brunette's words.

---------------------------------------------  
_Black boots came to a crunching halt as he reached the sizeable foot of the great oak tree. He glanced upwards to realize much to his surprise that Braig was much higher up then he had originally thought._

_'How in any hell did he get up there?' He thought privately to himself._

_Apparently, that thought was not as closely kept to himself as he thought. Braig laughed above Xehanort's head, wriggling his eyebrows that implied the childish mockery of 'I can do something you can't!'_

_The cocky brunette smiled broadly, devilish glint of superiority still well-fueled by the difference of height between the two. Braig continued to look down with scrutiny at Xehanort as he bent up his knee for his arm to rest on. His other leg resigned to thumping loudly against the scarred bark of another of the tree's sturdy branches._

_Braig absently drawled out a lazy explanation of who the person that he had been chatting with was, "Anyway- this is the new guy, Xehanort. Xehanort this is my good buddy Elly." He waved a hand to the two of them as a king would to his jesters to perform parodies of plays to entertain him._

_The stranger shook his head solemnly and promptly prodded the vulnerable calve of Braig's dangling leg with the blunt handle of the wooden rake he was holding. Braig squawked and nearly recoiled off of the tree branch. Unbalanced like a suddenly height phobic cat, he clung to the branch for dear life and loudly swore at how he'd nearly died._

_He quickly regained his balance on the branch and scowled. The flat of the rake's end neared Braig __threateningly__. He twitched fearfully and shouted defensively at it, "OK __**OK**__." Xehanort grinned gratuitously to himself at the display of weakness._

_Braig huffed from his perch, still cursing in vulgar tongue at many a deity and __otherworldly __icon. He noticed that the threat of another rake jab was not lessening at his promise so he spat out appropriate appeasement, "ANYWAY, Elly kindly reminded me that I shoulda told you his name was Elaeus- MY FREAKING BAD."_

_The treacherous instrument used for stabbing Braig drew contently away. Xehanort smirked all too happily at Braig's discomfort and __enthusiastically __tuned to hold out his hand to Elaeus._

_Unlike Braig and Even, Elaeus had the build of one who had toiled for the most part of his life. He was of unquestionably tall and intimidating stature, but despite this, held a quality of empathy and competence. His jaw was broad and set squarely into the expression of a listener. He had grey blue eyes that were furrowed into serious expression by thick brows of burnt umber. His sharp cheekbones were framed by short side bangs of auburn hair. He wore a mahogany shirt that fit snugly and whose color was darkened by the collection of sweat. His uniform white coat was tied around his waist for, what Xehanort assumed, the sake of work._

_Elaeus removed a large calloused hand from the neck of the wood rake and shook Xehanort's smaller one._

_He heard a decisive snort from above as well as the protests of leaves being shaken by their respective parent branch. By the time Xehanort had pulled his hand from Elaeus' greeting, Braig had already finished fidgeting into a reclined position on the oak's branch with his lazy tar-brown ponytail of hair drooping like a noose. He feigned a loud yawn and waved down a hand to Elaeus and Xehanort, "Hey Elly, gonna take a quick nap, wake me up if you see any of the taskmasters. Xehanort there can help you with cleaning the quad or something, build some character, whatever."_

_He yawned loudly once more. He brought back the hand he'd waved at them and laid it peacefully on his chest as he drifted off to sleep. Xehanort frowned darkly at Braig's behavior. He felt a weight on his shoulder and saw that it was Elaeus with a soft smile of understanding on his face._

_Elaeus looked up to the snoring form of Braig then back to the vast floor of work he had not made progress through. He dug the rake adamantly into the leaf covered ground and dragged a momentous pile to his feet. He flipped the toothed end of the rake over and scooped up a generous helping of leaves. With the utmost care, his tongue pressed out of the corner of his mouth in devious concentration, he held up the mass of moistly pressed leaves over Braig and dumped them on his face._

---------------------------------------------  
Pale hands were folded tightly in the lap of a white garb of a dress. Her sandaled feet rapped against the unfeeling surface of the bone seared marble of the chair. She watched the eyeless puppets dancing before her in their billowy nickel colored skin.

They paid no attention to her. They were distracted by the compulsion to whisper hissing echoes to each other. They were always contributing to their endless demented symphony of clashing sentences and garbled ideas.

She sighed to herself and pushed back a dull strand of yellow hair behind her ear that had come loose.

She did not understand why she had just woken to herself. She did not understand why she had just came to be. She did not understand why she had no name. She did not understand why her captors and the man named Xemnas called her 'the Dusk's Princess' and 'No Name'.

She did not understand why she couldn't see the sun. Or smell the perfume of the ocean. Or feel the warm caress of sand. Or taste the coaxed saltiness of the ocean. Or hear the sound of lapping waves against the shore.

She was grateful that her skeletal captors had not taken her back to the daunting sea of frigid black and purple, but it mattered little. What she longed for was an escape from this world that only 'nightmare' could describe in her mind. In the recent past she had slept to shut out the colorless images burning into her mind, but all sleep had left her with was a flat darkness to engrave into her memory.

She stopped sleeping as much because of that. Out of fear that someday that darkness would be all that she could see.

_'But, what if someday, this light is all I can see? What do I do?'_ She thought nervously to herself.

She bit her lip in hopes it would drive away the festering fear. _'I want to see home.'_

A great thrilling noise rose up from the captors who constantly referred to themselves as Dusks. There was a great clamor amongst them and for once, the repulsive melody of the conflicting voices died down to a unanimous choir of pandemonium.

_**"Superior and Superior's chosens are going to the forbidden place."  
"Why why why?! Without Superior, the Superior's unchosens will escape into the Superior's castle!"  
"But some of the unchosens have already **__**broken **__**through the doors!"  
"What do Dusks do? Terrible things will happen to Dusks! Just like Dusk sent to-."  
"Dusk shall not speak of it! Dusk still hasn't reported this to Superior! Dusk must wait until time is right!"  
"Dusks must do something to maintain Superior's wishes!"  
"No no NO! Dusks priority is to protect No Name from the unchosens!"  
"Dusks were not all given that task! Dusk was! Where is Dusk?!"  
**_  
An individual from the uniform minions stepped twitchingly forth. _"Dusk is here."_

_**"Dusk should stay with No Name!"**  
"Dusk understands. Dusk is sorry."  
**"Dusks will watch the unchosens. Dusks will protect Superior's Castle!"**_

Most of the boneless beings then departed with the sound of escaping air and a flash of white. No Name was left alone with the quietly wilting Dusk designated by the others to stay by her side.

The Dusk morphed slowly towards her and bowed. She smiled wanly at it. The Dusk picked itself back up to the straightest posture it could manage amidst its involuntary twitching. It opened its zipper tooth lined mouth into an obscure attempt at a grin. No Name arced away from it.

_"Dusk is sorry to have been away from No Name. Dusk didn't want to tell others what Dusk was doing."_

No Name's fear was overridden by curiosity at what the Dusk meant. Her hands pressed into her lap as she learned forward to whisper her question to it, "What do you mean?"

The Dusk clapped its paddle shaped hands together, zipper grin growing into a larger curve. Its undulating tone picked up a hint of exhilaration,_ "Dusk was getting a doll for No Name. The doll was nice and white just like No Name. Dusk wanted to give it to No Name because it was so much like No Name. Dusk thought that No Name wouldn't look so sad if No Name had a doll."_

No Name stared in wide-eyed astonishment at it. The Dusk flapped its hands to and fro as it continued to elaborate its story in its surreal staccato, _"But when Dusk was coming back, Dusk dropped the doll. It fell into one of the black wells around the Superior's Castle. Dusk had to search for a very long time for the doll. But Dusk is glad Dusk did."_

No Name smiled faintly at its descriptions of the task it had undertaken. Despite the ghastly appearance of the creature, it acted no more malevolent then a child.

The Dusk gesticulated a cowering look, its paws cupping into a dome over its head. _"But when Dusk found it, Dusk saw it was being used by Graceful Assassin. Dusk didn't want to be punished so Dusk had to watch. Dusk was so shocked when Graceful Assassin broke the doll! Dusk thought that Graceful Assassin did it by accident, but Graceful Assassin kept breaking it!"_

The Dusk curled its papery hands into balls and held it to the upper part of its face where its eyes should have been. Its face lurched as it gave a mournful half-sob, _"Dusk wanted to stop Graceful Assassin, but Graceful Assassin looked so happy breaking it. Dusk still doesn't know why Graceful Assassin did it, but Gambler of Fate did not tell Graceful Assassin to stop breaking the doll. Dusk had to wait for a very long time for Graceful Assassin and Gambler of Fate to leave."_

No Name pitied the poor creature. She reached out to pet it on its head, her fingers barely pressing against its aqueous and faintly airy skin.

It lightly pressed its imitation of a skull into the source of her palm, its cries slowly ebbing away.

It wiped the front of its pointed snout and perked back up. The Dusk bounced up and down, the pitch of its static voice taking on its previous zeal, _"But Dusk knew it was worth waiting! Dusk took back the doll and put it back together again! Dusk knows the doll isn't as nice as before Dusk dropped it. But Dusk still wants to give No Name the doll. Does No Name still want the doll?"_

No Name beamed at the Dusk with clear blue eyes. This Dusk wasn't like the others. It was such a sweet and thoughtful Dusk, how could she say no to it? "Of course."

The Dusk quickly danced and pirouetted around where No Name was seated. Happily praising how lucky it was and how No Name was very much like a kind princess. It soon settled down to a mild anticipation, zipper mouth panting like a puppy's. It placed it's fish scale hands above her face open ones. She felt a small squelching tug against her hands and the soft pressure of weight being dropped into it.

The Dusk pulled away its hands, cheerfully bubbling, _"See, the doll is still nice, just like Dusk said!"_

No Name choked back broken tears, blue eyes widening painfully beyond their normal size. The pale skin on her face achieved an even more bloodless color. Her mouth gaped as she suffocating on her own will to resist blanching at the thing she was holding in her hands.

It was a disgusting pile of mutilated feather and flesh. A failed chimera of organs strung inside-out and sewn hopelessly together by wet tendon. Its skin was stretching in terrible patches with feathers vainly adhering to seams of blood and crushed bone. Its appendages were gnarled in stiff gestures of early rigor mortis, its eye sockets cradling the crushed ruins of vision. It pulsated weakly, dark blood oozing from its unnaturally porous body, a dry cry of mercy eliciting from its feebly open and splintered beak.

She threw down the miserable abomination, leaping back from her chair with amazing force. She tripped backwards over it, tumbling brutally onto the floor and gasping for fleeting air. Her feet pushed her away from the thing that had been deprived of peaceful death, her blood dipped hands scraping and slipping to aid in her futile escape.

The Dusk hung its arms to the floor, tiny shoulders sagging at the unexpected result of No Name's reaction. Its zipper mouth closed to a bare slit, _"Doesn't No Name like her doll?"_

---------------------------------------------  
_Braig thrashed wildly on the branch, scratching at the air and mess of leaves. He rolled off the branch like a bag of rocks and landed in Elaeus' expecting arms. His broad shouldered friend held him for a split second then dropped him the remaining four feet to the ground._

_The scrawny brunette hissed in pain and clenched his eyelids tightly together at the jarring sensations his spine was suffering. Elaeus shook his head as though he were giving an indignant huff and retook up the rake he had thrown to the side in his haste to catch Braig._

_Elaeus turned away and began to slowly rake up the leaves again. Xehanort continued to snicker behind the shield of his hand as Braig continued to writhe limply on the floor._

_Braig pointed up a dazed hand and threatened the two of them, "Mark my words, either karma or me is going to kick your sorry asses." It may have sounded more threatening had his voice still held its usual arrogance instead of the near intoxicated ring to it._

_The tanned man scoffed at him, an impetuous laugh bordering his remark, "Funny you talk about karma Braig, you seemed quite capable of dodging Even's version of it."_

_Much to Xehanort's surprise, Braig chuckled thickly in reply. The corners of his sandy eyes and thin smirk crinkled in distraught farces if satisfaction. Xehanort raised an ashen eyebrow at Braig. The scrawny man coughed into the back of his hand and then pressed it into the crest of his forehead. His shoulders still shaking as he laughed coldly to himself, "Oh man, now I know I've died and gone to some sort of hell if Xenny can crack a joke at me."_

_Xehanort froze at Braig's words as their meaning sunk into his heart and mind. He took a deep gulp, his mouth suddenly feeling dry at the rush of sensations overwhelming him. He didn't understand why he was behaving in that way. Being friendly with such a morally irrational man terrified him but at the same time intrigued him._

_He briefly thought back to the short time he'd spent with the man Ansem had forced him to become acquainted with._

_Suddenly, every single action and reaction he had to Braig seemed so uncouth on his part. He had fallen for every provocation at every single turn. He had found sadistic amusement in Braig's misfortune. He had even taken the first steps into trying to break down Braig's ego. Even if he felt Braig deserved every bit of it, he had been acting no better then Braig._

_Xehanort dipped his head down in shame. Woefully he mumbled, "I'm sorry."_

_He heard a flood of leaves gush from the vague direction of Braig and felt a hardy hand slap his shoulder, bony fingers wrapping affectionately around it. Braig cackled loudly and playfully tugged hard on one of Xehanort's cheeks. "Oh is the special boy worried about little old me? HAHAHAHAHA! Just an FYI, I ain't a dainty piece of grandma's china."_

_Xehanort quickly dispelled his feelings of wasted guilt and glared at Braig._

_Braig smiled proudly in return. He slapped Xehanort's shoulder once more and then paced ahead, his hands avidly splayed out and appearing to conduct the __leafless __trees, "And with that Braig scores yet another point in making Xehanort less of a sniveling boy by making him grow a sense of humor!" Xehnaort wrinkled his nose at the odd commentary, and glanced back to see if Elaeus was going to follow them._

_The burly man stood still, rake clutched to in his hands. Xehanort began, "Are you coming-?"_

_Elaeus held up a halting hand and Xehanort silenced. Elaeus swept his hand in the general area of the large floor that still required his attention and then pointed to himself. He smiled once more and waved his hand to Xehanort as if he were trying to sweep him calmly away._

_Braig's abrasive voice rang from up ahead, "Don't make me come back there and haul you out of there!" Xehanort reluctantly turned around and began to make his way after Braig._

_He glanced over his shoulder again. Elaeus smiled once more and waved a meek good-bye._

---------------------------------------------  
"Dreams? W-hat kind of dreams?" Roxas' shoulders curled in at Axel's most recent topic of discussion.

Axel opened and closed his hands slowly, gloves creaking with deduction. He brought his spread fingers together and rubbed the insides of his palms together.

He dragged out each hushed syllable as a delicate shard of glass, "You know that feeling of déjà vu, only a little weirder?"

Roxas nodded his head weakly, barely mustering the volume to answer, erratic fear crawling from the unknown pit of his stomach, "Yeah, why?"

The redhead held out his hands in empty offering, green eyes narrow with concentration. The joints in his hands tightened around the invisible hilt of air. Flecks of black, white and orange warped together to form the biting thorns of a small flame. Roxas shrunk away from the searing chips of ember swarming around the growing bundle of fiery wires.

Axel let out a sharp breath of air, his hands lowering tiredly. The violently lapping orb collapsed inside itself instantly. Leaving no trace that it had even been beckoned forth. "I think I'm having one of those. You saw it right?"

Roxas sunk back into his seat with the flames now gone. He remembered the terrifying dreams he had experienced when he slept. The shadowy silhouette, him always chasing that person, that dark companion leaving him for good-

_'Live better. Have a better outlook on life.'_ The self-promise echoed in his head.

Roxas grinned at Axel, "So that's why your room smelled like burnt wood." He laughed lightly, "I never would have guessed you were a closet pyro."

Axel didn't laugh back. He continued to stare at the empty palms of his hands. Roxas noticed the unusual somberness and ceased laughing, "Axel-?"

The other laughed curtly and rolled back in the seat of his chair, hands now running along the flow of his red spikes for hair. He raised his voice as he was accusing the air, "I **knew** it!"

Roxas voiced an intelligent, "Huh??"

---------------------------------------------  
_Through the gnarled hive of trees, Xehanort followed the retreating white figure of Braig. He had to weave far too often through the dense __sienna __in order to catch up with his tactless guide._

_After making the pilgramage out of the obtrusive webbing of the imitation of a small forest, he was finally able to walk alongside Braig in a blessedly treeless area._

_He dusted himself off of leaves and twigs, finding a good portion of the debris had actually been caught in his hair rather then his coat. Surprisingly, Braig waited for him without making snide commentary._

_With all __noticeable __bramble removed from his person, he finally noticed that they were in yet another unfamiliar area. He motioned to tap Braig on the shoulder to question where he had been dragged now, Braig merely rolled his shoulder out of the way of Xehanort's fingers._

_The brunette clicked his tongue and gave a permissive sigh, "Ya know, Xenny, my escape plans kinda got screwed up. I completely forgot that today was Tuesday." He rubbed he back of his neck and massaged the points of his vertebrae plaintively._

_Xehanort, unknowing of what the meaning of it being Tuesday had to do with anything, responded with accurate apathy, "And how does that matter?"_

_Braig heaved yet another wistful sigh, "Well, I was kinda sorta supposed to help Elaeus clean the yard and stuff. Now my neck hurts like a crazy bitch because he decided to play a dirty trick on me. Damn Elaeus and his inability to talk. It he could then he'd be able to ask __politely __so I could actually ignore him."_

_Yellow eyes widened in astonishment. He thought back to how the auburn haired man had only gestured with his hands and remained absolutely silent. 'So Elaeus __**is**__ mute.'_

_The scrawny man shook his head side to side, cracking loose the bones in his neck with relish. "But that's ok, because I'm a freaking genius and I've got a Plan B that's fullproof." Braig pointed up a tyrannical finger to the sky above, and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Next stop is the Art Room!"_

_Xehanort looked up to where he had pointed, half expecting to see whatever new locale Braig was going to reach in the most eccentric way possible._

_However, unlike the previous marathonic-esque journeys initiated by Braig. He felt himself being shoved harshly forward by Braig's unseen hands. He stumbled clumsily and protested verbally with a borderline yelp, but it was drowned out by a deafening wail of oil deficient metal gears._

_The ground jolted up with a violent shudder that nearly landed him to the floor. He heard Braig cackle behind him as the sound of humming machinery pervaded the air._

_Xehanort shakily regained his stability, the brief gravity from the upwards quake no longer present. He saw the scenery at his eye level move downwards back to the earth as his vision seemed to travel up with the island of ground he and Braig stood on. He looked over the edge of the slightly colored rock floor of the platform and saw the ground much farther then he recalled it to have been and that it seemed to be growing ever smaller._

_His __muscles __and joints became rigid as he tried to calm himself._

_He heard Braig snicker and could feel he was smirking at him from the side. "Is the special boy afraid of heights?" Xehanort clenched his teeth together as his eyes morbidly fixed on the shrinking moss that he knew were trees on the ground level. He felt Braig lightly shove his shoulder to cajole him from his stiff posture. "Aw don't worry Xenny, the ground can't hurt you from up here!"_

_Xehanort didn't budge or respond. Fear having a tight vice grip over his mind._

_"Geez man, you've never been on an elevator before?"_

_He heard Braig plod over to the edge of the moving platform and saw him sit down. His legs dangled lazily over the side, his arms resting well behind him as he looked at the gradually sinking horizon and the glowng orb hovering above it._

_There was silence between the two of them. The metal cogs acting as humming ambience for the distant and otherwise soundless scenery before them._

_The elevator continued its steady journey up to the peak of the open mouthed tower. The platform finally came to a strong halt as intense as when it had first departed from the ground. Xehanort stiffly moved from the rumbling but still kept his frigid place._

_Braig got up from his seat and pressed an arm to Xehanort to move him off of the lift. Xehanort continued to stare wildly at the abysslike ground that spread to the mountains as Braig dragged him onto the solid footing in the building._

_After they got off, the platform echoed a loud clank once more, and dropped much more quickly down. Xehanort snatched back his ability to think clearly as Braig shut the door in front of him._

_Braig gave him a disappointed look accentuated by a compliment of irritation, "Ya really don't know what you're missing by being afraid."_

---------------------------------------------  
"Oh...wow..."

Demyx widely gawked at the summits of shelves packed tight with layers upon layers of books. The water doppelganger by his side gurgled an equivalent to a whimpering _meep_ sound.

The blond smiled impressively to himself, blue eyes alit with awe and brewing excitement. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together sinisterly, "OK! We should split up to cover more ground, look for anything about sitars, that's spelled S-I-T-A-R."

He flashed his infectious smile at his watery twin. After a moment of common sense, he tapped the side of this face with a chortle of nervous laughter, "Eh heh heh, on second thought, if you find anything, call me over to get it. Books aren't so great with water you know."

With that, the two began their mission of scouring the maze of a library for their desired information.

---------------------------------------------  
_The sharp, metallic smell of acrylics and old paints flowed over him as the purple door swung open. Braig haughtily stepped through the threshold first, not even bothering to hold the door open for him to walk through. He had to catch the heavy door with the flat of his hand before it impacted on his face._

_He pushed the door open to let himself into a room overcrowded with tables, canvases and an abundance of works that were complete and others still unfinished. He heard Braig shuffling about and saw him tip-toeing over a variety of metal vines and amorphous ceramics that led to the farther reaches of the room. His eyes fell upon a figure constructed of copper weavings. Its being was molded into the form of a soulless creature brandishing a featureless weapon._

_Metal clanking rang throughout the room and he heard customary swearing from Braig's unseen person._

_But this time it wasn't for what he had possibly disturbed, rather it was in recognition of someone whom he wasn't expecting, "Dilan? What are you doing up here-" The sound of something heavy connected with the soft backside of a human, "__**OOF.**__ GODDAMMIT IENZO LAY OFF THE PAINTCAN BOMBS."_

_Wondering what had happened now, Xehanort began to pick a path through the messy room._

_It wasn't long before he heard a different voice come from where Braig supposedly was, "Oh it's you Braig, I'm sorry, I mistook you for a __burglar__." It was a light voice veiled with near tangible sarcasm. So it wasn't surprising that Braig reacted violently to it._

_Braig roared at the other angrily, "WHAT KIND OF DUMBASS WOULD STEAL PAINT?!"_

_An oil smooth remark came from the light voice again, "A dumbass named Braig who once painted Flaming __Fuchsia __over all of the test sheets to avoid having the scores read off."_

_He heard Braig reply with his defensive, but blatantly wounded pride, "Touché mouse boy."_

_Xehanort rounded the courner and saw Braig's back turned to him and still making his habitual gestures to the other two people._

_He glanced around Braig to see a figure sitting in a chair with an irritated twitch in the corner of his mouth. _

_Dilan, he assumed, because of how he was at his sketchpad trying to tune out Braig's and the other's squabble, appeared to possess a build that was a middle ground between Braig's lankiness and Elaeus' heftiness. His face was well-rounded with a broad chin and the oddest sideburns he'd ever seen. Tossed over his shoulder and resting on part of his odd robe was a glossless tight knot of black hair. He was currently tapping the end of his pencil to the paper, his pitch dark eyes glaring at a sketch of what may have been a vase._

_He continued to lean to the side to see the person standing next to Dilan and out of Braig's reach._

_The other, Ienzo, was indeed a very small framed person. His figure was further dwarfed by an oversized cream tunic decorated with coffee colored checkers on the edges. Contrasting his specter coloration was hair that was styled into what was supposed to be considered aesthetically pleasing. Dyed cobalt bangs were cut just above the border of what would have impeded the vision of ice tinted eyes. Ienzo was an extremely pale person with the complexion of one who was sickly and deprived of outdoor activities. He looked in every degree ailed enough, that were it not for the fact he was indeed standing on his own two feet, he would have been more appropriately situated in a hospital bed._

_Ienzo noticed and tilted to the side to follow Xehanort's gaze. He gave him a watery smile, "You must be 'our' new friend." His barely cyan eyes flitted back to Braig with masked strain._

_Braig stared between the two of them as he connected the implied dots of Ienzo's statement. He laughed loudly and jabbed a thumb to Xehanort, "Hah! Maybe, for now he's just the tumor Ansem assigned to me."_

_The blue haired boy laughed under his breath as he performed a half-bow, blue bangs turning down as a grainy curtain over his eyes, "I'd like to think that Master Ansem still has impeccable taste when it comes to selecting his apprentices."_

_Xehanort stared at the boy. A mix of apprehension and something else unfamiliar twisted in the darkest pit of his heart._

_Ienzo turned back up, corners of his sky drained eyes crinkling like cruel floe, "I'm sure he'll be a very...unique addition to his Majesty's group."_

---------------------------------------------  
"Behold, Hollow Bastion."

Xemnas brought his arms back to his sides, and waited for the others to acknowledge the entirety of the world steeped in corruption. The shadowy gate they had traveled through was already dissipating its last stringy wisps of existence.

Vexen was eying the falls of water that flowed in reverse to gravity with a pointed glare of objectivity. Zexion was already examining a spiked ball balanced on top of a small altar as it pulsated with yellow and blue sparks. Lexaeus was not too far away from him, satisfied with observing the glowing object instead of prodding it. Xaldin was testing the stability of one of the nearby floating ledges by climbing on top of it.

Xigbar stood obediently by Xemnas' side, staring critically at the castle in the distance branded with the emblem of a rejected heart. Yellow eyes layered by red saw that the scrawny man was unable to accept the idea of home being a catacomb of concrete enveloped by the twisted ivy of pipes and dark energy.

Xemnas shouldered the responsibility of proving the Bastion's worth to the side, placing higher priority on why he even brought them there.

"Come, I must show you the library."

A few of them looked at him, Lexaeus being the first to break away from his mild intrigue in the enigmatic device to take a place closer to Xemnas. Vexen continued to bear the expression of still flickering resentment but was able to set it aside completely upon hearing the promise of new knowledge. The other two did not move from where they stood, Zexion still picking apart the components of the mysterious object and Xaldin still looking back at them from his perch on the levitating stone.

"We have limited time. The Keyblade Wielder may still be here."

At that, the other two quickly abandon their distractions and join the rest of the idling group. Xemnas shifted his attention to the floating blocks and waved his hands to them.

A wall of translucent crimson blocks shimmered into the air and broke at their joining segments into smaller boxes. The bright cubes of light gathered around one of the larger platforms and herded it to the ledge where Xemnas and the group stood.

They boarded the transport and it carried them across the troubled sea to the distant Bastion of home.

---------------------------------------------  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For some reason, the 'past life' parts went on much longer then intended, oh well. Also, I have seen all of the additional cutscenes from KH2:FM+. Those scenes will be touched upon, referenced and/or integrated into the overall story of TTR in some way shape or form. How this will all be worked out- well that's a secret. I was slightly disappointed that they did not have more scenes pre-KH:CoM/KH2, I suppose it's more creative license for the rest of us, but still.

TRIVIA: An extremely minor semi-plot related "mystery" was answered. For anyone who might be confused on the Dusk's speech pattern, roughly it's, Dusks universal plural/collective first person, Dusk universal singular first/second/third person. They also refer to people by specific titles and rarely use pronouns.


End file.
